Scar Tissue
by in perpetuum
Summary: "Not friends, remember?" Alicia reminded them, scooting over to make more room for Kemp and his gigantic tray of food. He plucked a grape tomato off her plate, popped it in his mouth, and grinned. "Didn't anyone tell you? I'm not very good at listening." / the actual THE LOST BOYS rewrite. multichap, multiple pairings, strong T.
1. Hold On

**a/n** \- if there's anyone out there, uh, hi. hello. you've seen this about three different times, but this is The One, i swear. i have a good feeling about this rewrite and it even feels like it. the others were a bit too try-hard, i think, and this one really got down to the roots of it. that, and i accidentally stumbled upon the inspiration for the lost boys on youtube the other day.

i know that the clique fandom is basically dead, but i'm still gonna do this because i'm stubborn and can't stop thinking about these stupid characters i tortured for 50+ chapters from my senior year of high school to my junior year of college. i'm better now, i think, and this is much more mature than anything ever could have been. i also promise not to kill josh. that was in very poor taste last time.

anyway, if there's anyone out there, you can let me know how much you hate me and my indecisiveness in a review. and if i delete this- fingers crossed that i won't- feel free to come at me with pitchforks. you know. if you care enough.

taking a different take on the whole storyline, so here's a present day situation and i will tell the story of the pc and briarwood boys' past hostilities in a more roundabout way. giving my boys kemp and plovert a little more love this time around, seeing as i always manage to throw them to the back no matter how hard i try.

this is _disclaimed_.

* * *

 **scar tissue**

.

 _Hold on, I still want you_  
 _Come back, I still need you_  
 _Let me take your hand, I'll make it right_  
 _I swear to love you all my life  
_ \- "Hold On," Chord Overstreet

.

The Hurley house loomed over them like a gothic castle, and in the dark light of a September night, the shadows stretching over them, it seemed more a scene from a horror movie than it did a typical home in Westchester County, and Massie Block couldn't help but wonder if that was what her life would turn into. She could probably pull off the whole "final girl" plot line, and if not she could definitely kick some ass if a psychotic murderer was after her. With that thought in mind, she knocked- once, twice, thrice- each time being as incessant and annoying as possible.

There was a low groan to her left, a clammy, sweaty forehead pressed against her forearm, and she rubbed her free hand in soothing circles on Alicia Rivera's back as they waited.

"Mathie," her best friend slurred, breathing sharply through her nose, "I don' feel so good…"

"I know, babe," Massie murmured back, bringing her hand up to knock again. She really, really hoped Kemp was home, even though she hadn't spoken to him or any of his other friends in how many years. "Just hold on a little longer, okay? He'll answer."

"Who will?" Alicia asked.

"Kemp."

"Why are we at Kemp's?" she questioned, surprisingly articulate. "We hav' net spok'n to him in years…" She stopped, frowned, exhaled. "How will he 'elp?"

The more sober of the duo ran her fingers through the other's hair. "He lives the closest to where we were," she explained, and she was glad Alicia wasn't coherent enough to ask any more questions. She couldn't say why she remembered where he lived, or how she knew how to get there from Robert Kensington's house. She just… _did_ , and a little part of her knew it was because two years ago she'd made this trek more times than she could count. Thankfully Alicia couldn't put two and two together in her current state.

Massie lifted her hand to knock _again_ , fist slamming against the wood in front of her in an irritating song of desperation and fear. Alicia looked like she was ready to upchuck any second and Massie wanted to get her friend somewhere comfortable and safe before she started. It was one of the reasons she ushered her out of the football party so quickly.

In fact, her phone was still ringing: Dylan Marvil, Kristen Gregory, and Claire Lyons were, no doubt, wondering what became of them. Massie just didn't have the time to explain.

" _Massie_ ," Alicia said.

She heard it before it happened, felt Alicia's entire body shudder, and, as fate would have it, the door finally opened as the Latina bent her head and vomited on the _WELCOME HOME_ mat in front of the Hurleys' white door- no longer as pristine, or pretty, or white now that there were multicolored chunks of Alicia's exciting, drunken night all over it.

Sheepishly, Massie greeted Kemp (tall, dark, and handsome): "I'll clean that up."

He considered her, considered _them_ \- Massie, in her multicolored, sheer purple minidress, and Alicia, in her tiny shirt and killer pair of skinny jeans- and merely drawled, "I thought you were the pizza delivery guy."

"I'm not," snapped Massie, because her friend had thrown up _this_ close to her suede platform pumps, and because Kemp Hurley was staring at them like they were some sort of annoying insect he'd love to kill. "But when it comes, I'll pay for it. Now please don't make me beg to come in."

Kemp sighed and shouldered his door open a little more, gesturing (albeit sarcastically) for her to enter. He took Alicia's deadweight from her left side, hooking an arm around her and pressing her against his side. Alicia mumbled nonsensically, shifting her weight so her head settled more comfortably on his shoulder.

"Where'd you guys go?" he asked, righting the Latina bombshell. "The kitchen's the first door on the right and the bathroom is down the hall a little more and to the left."

Massie kept from saying _I know_ and nodded, rifling through her purse for her wallet. "Does sixty cover your food?" she asked, slapping three twenty dollar bills on the small table in the foyer. "If not, just let me know."

Kemp wrinkled his nose. "You don't have to pay for-"

"I'm going to," Massie interrupted. "I'm crashing your-" She broke off as the rest of his friends yelled at something in the other room, a video game, no doubt. "-guys night."

"It's just a normal Saturday night," Kemp mumbled, nodding his head so she knew to follow him. "Where'd you guys go?"

"Rob- Vader's," she said, knowing he'd know his old friend better from his middle school nickname than anything else. Vader no longer breathed awkwardly, having gotten septum surgery after one too many footballs to the face, and while he was now attractive in all capacities, he was also an important member of the football team. "I think Alicia just had too much to drink and your house is the closest to his and I couldn't take her home like this…"

"Don't go to football parties, Mass," Kemp advised, stumbling slightly when Alicia stopped helping him. He paused, just outside his den, trying to get her back on her feet.

She ignored the way he called her "Mass" (only her friends did that) and frowned. "Why not?"

"You have to be careful," he said, kicking the door open with his knee. The loud voices of his friends greeted them, shouting over some sort of fighting game- _Injustice_ , maybe, because they were talking superheroes and villains- and Kemp, over his shoulder, elaborated, "They spike their drinks."

"They do _what_?"

"Dude, is that the pizza?" came Chris Plovert, settled between an arm rest and Cam Fisher.

"Uh, no," replied Kemp, eyebrows pinched as Alicia hiccoughed, "it's-"

"Massie," the other girl said loudly.

Kemp transferred her best friend to her arms, grabbed the trashcan, and had Alicia's face in it in a record-breaking ten seconds. It would have been impressive had Alicia- prettiest girl in school, the same girl who never let boys she was interested in see her eat- not heaved into it. She held Massie's elbow in a vice-like grip, dragging her down to the ground with her.

The video game was muted, an awkward shot of the Flash halfway into his special move against Batman. Two heads popped over the side of the couch. Both Josh Hotz and Cam looked over to see the new arrivals, but Massie was too busy pulling Alicia's hair out of her face to pay any mind.

"What are _they_ doing there?" Derrick Harrington asked flatly at the same time Chris Plovert wondered, "What happened?"

"They went to a football party," answered Kemp instead of Massie.

"A football party." Josh wrinkled his nose, dropping his controller. "Don't they- they spike their drinks, right? That's what everyone is saying?"

Kemp nodded once, standing imperiously above the two girls. "I was just telling them that." He crossed his arms over his chest, narrowed his eyes at Alicia's pale, prone form. "Plovert, can you go to my room and get an extra pair of pajamas?" He tilted his head to the side, watched Massie tie Alicia's hair into a messy bun at the nape of her neck. "Two, actually."

Massie ignored how uncomfortable she felt, pretended like she wasn't aware of the aggressive way in which Kemp hung around them. Only Chris seemed interested and worried and he listened to orders, slipping and sliding in his socks to his best friend's bedroom two floors up. There was a beat of silence, the game still paused, though Massie wasn't sure why.

They weren't at all concerned about Alicia, that much was obvious; more like they were annoyed with their presence, but Massie was not going to call Isaac to drive them back- she'd throw up in the car, and that wasn't easy to hide- and she couldn't walk halfway across Westchester with Alicia in this condition… She didn't care if she ruined their night or if they were bothered by them, it was the best for Alicia, and Massie would always do what was best for her, even if it made her want to tear her hair out.

And want to tear her hair out she did. She couldn't help but notice the way they were all kind of just peeking at them- unless you counted Kemp, who was angrily glaring and Derrick, who was very adamantly staring at his fingers.

"What do you mean they spike their drinks?" the willowy brunette asked.

"Exactly what you think," Kemp replied, his defensive pose softening slightly. "The football team is known for it… PCP, roofies, ketamine, what have you… they put whatever they can get their hands on in their punch and have the girls drink it." He licked his lips. "I'm assuming that's what Alicia did."

Massie frowned. "…But why?"

"Because they can't get girls on their own, that's why, Block," Derrick replied snottily. He restarted the game, Batman getting his ass kicked by the Flash because Josh hadn't been paying attention.

She rolled her eyes, ignoring the racing of her heart. "And they think it's okay to… to what? Hinder a girl's decision making so they'll… they'll agree to sleep with them?"

"It's not that they'll agree to sleep with them," Cam said, unable to take his eyes off of Alicia, who was now curled up against Massie's calf, using her leg as a pillow. "It's that they… can't say no."

"And they like that?" Massie spat out, tucking some of Alicia's hair behind her ear. "You know, like… basically forcing a girl into doing something she wouldn't even want to do, isn't that- isn't that technically-"

"I haven't heard it actually ever working," Kemp said, dropping to the floor beside her. His legs were long but he crossed them, pretzel-style. "The football team is full of assholes anyway, Mass. You girls shouldn't go to their parties regardless."

"And what parties should we go to, then?" Massie snorted. " _Yours_? As if."

Kemp smirked. "You're in my house, are you not?"

"Like I said," Massie shot back easily, "your house is the closest. I couldn't bring Alicia home like this-"

"-aren't her parents hardly home?" he retorted. "What would be so wrong about taking her there and doing exactly what you're doing now? Nothing, right? We're not friends, we'll never be friends- at least that's what you told all of us at one point- _so what are you doing here_?"

"You let me in," she reminded him.

"True," Kemp agreed, "but I could have easily slammed the door in your face. I'd like to remind you that I'm not a terrible person, even though you seem to think I am." He reached a hand out to stroke her cheek in some power move. Massie wriggled out of his reach. "Don't skirt the question."

Alicia moaned, breath hitching, and pushing herself up. "Massie."

"Yep?" the other girl asked softly.

"Did Kemp ever open the door?"

Massie shot the boy in question a scathing look, but the words out of her mouth were gentle. "Yeah, babe, he did."

"…tha's nice of him." Somewhat aware of her surroundings, Alicia leaned over and patted Kemp's foot. "I think 'm dying."

Kemp lightly placed his hand over hers, meeting her glassy-eyed, bloodshot gaze. If Massie wasn't exhausted and sort of tipsy, she might have noticed the tender way in which he regarded her. "What'd you drink, Rivera?"

She shrugged, shaking Kemp's hand away from hers and flopping on the floor.

"What'd she drink?" The question was to Massie now.

"What she normally drinks?" the girl replied, more question-like than an answer. "How am I supposed to know? I don't, like, watch her every move."

"Maybe you should," he murmured, grabbing Alicia's foot and tugging it closer, swiftly untying the laces of her black booties. "Did she like these shoes?"

"I don't know," said Massie, watching him.

He shimmied her foot out of one and Alicia giggled something like _that tickles_ and the fight ended on the television screen, Batman and Josh losing spectacularly because Derrick hadn't told him he was turning the game back on.

Kemp got to work on the other shoe, carefully avoiding the vomit stain right by her big toe, and said something like _we can probably clean these_ and Massie ignored the vibrating of her phone.

He'd grown his hair out since shaving it all off last winter. It was thick and wavy, a bit of a mess now, at, like, twelve in the morning, but nice as a whole. His cheekbones were sharp, angular. Squinting, Massie could see the fading of a bruise on his jawline; she surprised herself by wondering what had happened. She knew Kemp had a bit of a reputation, but…

But watching him run a finger over Alicia's socks, checking to see if they were stained like her shoes and watching him regard her very carefully, like she was a doll or his sister… those weren't the actions of a guy who so often found himself settling matters with his fists instead of his words. She was reminded, so suddenly, that he and Alicia had been friends, and not in the way he and Massie had been friends (not really, not at all) but _friends_ in the way they had called each other to talk about their days and Alicia's boy troubles and Kemp's most recent suspension… and how, when neither of them had dates- or didn't want to be bothered finding one- to school dances, they went together…

 _We shouldn't be here._

"I'm… gonna go," she started, pushing herself to her feet, "I'm gonna go to the bathroom." She was very well aware of everyone staring at her- except Derrick, never him- and scratched her nose. "If- if she throws up again, you need to hold her hand. She likes to be comforted."

"Give that job to Chris," Cam muttered to Josh just loud enough for everyone to hear. "Sure he'd like-"

"Drop it," Kemp interrupted, fixing the two boys with his most severe glower. "The bathroom is just past the kitchen on the left."

"I know," Massie said, wondering when their dynamic changed. "You told me earlier. When I got here."

 _And I didn't exactly forget_ , but she wasn't about to say that.

Instead she shuffled out of the room, pausing to take deep, clear breaths. The murmuring of the boys resumed once they thought she was out of earshot and while she couldn't make anything out, she hoped Alicia was less black out than everyone assumed. It was a long shot though.

She wandered down the hall and dropped herself on to the toilet seat as soon as she locked the bathroom door behind her. Kicking her shoes off- they made _so much_ noise- she wrapped her arms around her legs and sighed, leaning her forehead against her knees.

Two years had passed and she shouldn't be so surprised by the hostility. She wasn't, actually, that wasn't it. She was more surprised by the way things had changed and the way they hadn't. They still hung out together, the boys, that is, and they still played that stupid game, and they still hated her.

But Kemp had let them in, let Alicia puke on his welcome mat, was giving them clothes to… to sleep in, probably, because he wasn't going to let them leave even though it seemed like that was all he wanted.

And maybe it was because they were at Kemp's house that he had the most control over them, but Massie had never seen Cam shut up that quickly. Had never seen Kemp look like that angry. Had never imagined Derrick Harrington would remain that silent.

Well, that was a lie; she _had_. It was just… she used to know why they did what they did. Why they were mad. Why they were quiet. There was a time when she knew them and that time had so clearly passed- but had enough time gone that she didn't recognize them anymore?

It wasn't like she came in here with any intention of patching things up, or with some ulterior motive to get back in their good graces. They were the last people she wanted to see… but Kemp was the only person she could think of when Alicia got sick in Vader's bushes.

She didn't care. They didn't care.

So why was she sitting in Kemp Hurley's bathroom, eyes shut tight, a gigantic wave of sadness crashing over her? Why was she sitting in Kemp Hurley's bathroom, eyes shut tight, _missing them_?

She blamed it on autumn; that season always brought out the worst of her nostalgia. Stupid beautiful dying Earth and metaphors for change and turning over new leaves…

Massie shook herself out as she got up, splashed water on her face (thank god for waterproof mascara, am I right?), and pulled her phone out of her little bag. Her friends were probably worried sick.

A series of text messages awaited her, but she hardly spared them a glance. Her most recent missed call was from Claire, so she pressed on her contact, held the phone to her ear, and waited.

Claire picked up on the third ring. The party was still going on, it seemed; the music and screaming teens were so loud Massie had to lower the volume. In the distance she heard a chorus of _CHUG CHUG CHUG_ and she wondered if they'd finally convinced Olivia Ryan to do that minute keg stand.

"Where are you?" Claire demanded, shouting. Massie could imagine her covering her other ear and frowning as she tried to make out what she was saying. "You know what, never mind that- you missed it: Kristen made out with _Dempsey Solomon_ , and like, wow, is he cute now that he's back from Africa or wherever the hell he summers. Jeez. Oh, and Dylan is, like, the queen of Flip Cup, she just beat the entire football team, and apparently Danny Robbins and Skye Hamilton broke up and Danny is looking for Alicia, can you believe it? And- oh, where are you? Landon is here and he's-"

.

 _ **Claire Lyons**_ : wth why'd u hang up  
 ** _Claire Lyons_** : probably for the best anyway its too loud here  
 _ **Claire Lyons**_ : LANDON CRANE IS LOOKING FOR U!

 _ **Dylan Marvil**_ : scale from 1-10 how attractive is griffin hastings  
 _ **Dylan Marvil**_ : objectively speaking ofc bc he fucked kris over that one time like 5 years ago  
 _ **Dylan Marvil**_ : good kisser tho  
 _ **Dylan Marvil**_ : I'm gonna give him an 8

 _ **Kristen Gregory**_ : u dont have a crush on dempsey anymore do u  
 _ **Kristen Gregory**_ : i hope not  
 _ **Kristen Gregory**_ : buying u that michael kors bomber jacket u want as an apology gift anyway

 _ **Chris Plovert**_ : got you and Alicia coffees and bagels  
 _ **Chris Plovert**_ : whenever you're ready to come downstairs it's in the kitchen

.

Alicia tied Kemp's oversized New York Mets shirt at her waist, did her best to fix the mess that was her hair, and frowned at Massie. "I can't believe you brought me here."

 _Me either_ , Massie thought.

"It was either this or drag you all the way across town," she said, rubbing her finger over her teeth in some half-assed attempt to clean them. "And I'd rather not humiliate you in front of all of Westchester-"

"Oh, but you'd humiliate me in front of _them_?"

"Yep," Massie replied cheerfully. "My first thought when you started vomiting was _hmm, you know what will be fun, embarrassing Alicia in front of five boys we don't hang out with anymore!_ I decided that was an excellent plan so all one hundred and twenty pounds of me pulled you, a dead weight of, like, three hundred, four blocks and an entire neighborhood over so I could do just that." She rolled her eyes. " _Really_ , Leesh? I don't want to be here any more than you do."

A flush spread over the Latina's cheeks. "Sorry," she mumbled. "It's just… I don't really know what happened last night and I'd hate to…" She shook her head, pieces of her haphazardly done bun falling into her face. "Thanks for taking care of me."

"Of course." Massie flung her arm around Alicia in a teeny, tiny hug. "Now let's go downstairs. Plovert bought us food."

Alicia groaned. "I cannot go down there," she replied vehemently even though she was following Massie's lead. "This is the worst. Can we just skip the breakfast and go?"

"Absolutely not. You need to eat something and I spent sixty dollars on pizza last night, so I deserve this."

"You did _what_?"

Massie ignored her and overwhelming feeling of dread washing over her. It was one thing to arrive, unannounced, with a sick and drunken friend, but it was entirely another to barge into the aftermath of a sleepover- did boys call it that?- and eat breakfast. Even if the breakfast was for them.

She hoped, making a quick left at the foot of the stairs, that they were all gone by now; it was nearing ten-thirty on a Sunday morning, surely they had soccer practice or something.

But then she heard the quiet murmuring of voices and knew she was wrong.

She never lost a step, though, and she balled up all the courage she could find- she was _Massie Block_ , goddammit- using it to help her as she flounced through the threshold into the kitchen.

"Look who's finally up," Kemp Hurley spoke lazily, hands wrapped around a coffee mug. He was completely dressed, Houston Astros baseball hat backwards on his head, and Massie felt a twinge of discomfort in the fact that she was still in borrowed pajamas… and probably would be for a while since all she had was her dress and heels upstairs.

"Good morning." Alicia brushed the hair out of her face, hopping onto a stool as gracefully as she could. "Uh… where are the rest of them?"

"Have a seat, Mass," Kemp offered, nodding towards the table. "D has brunch with his grandparents. I don't know about the other two."

Alicia nodded, ripping apart the paper wrapped around her food. From the look on her face, Massie could tell she was taken aback by the order. It was clear Plovert still remembered Alicia only ate poppy seed bagels with cranberry cream cheese.

"They left super early, though," Plovert replied as Massie took a chair on his left. "Didn't bother to say bye." He looked past that brunette to the other. "How're you feeling?"

She shrugged. "Okay," she said. "Less like I want to die, but not so much that I can…" She gestured with her chin to the bread in front of her, which she was just crumbling into tiny pieces.

"You should probably try though."

"The only thing I really want to do is go back to sleep."

"Feel free," Kemp said, putting his empty mug in the sink. "Chris and I have no plans today."

On her other side, Chris shot Kemp a look, cheeks reddening, but Massie was too busy sharing a significant glance with Alicia to notice.

 _We're not friends_ , her eyes seemed to say, _so why is he offering up his home?_

Massie blinked back. _I don't know_.

"Um, I really shouldn't," Alicia protested, "my mother has no idea I'm not at Massie's, and that's where I said I'd be-"

"As if the girls can't cover for you?"

"They don't know where we are, either," she said quickly. "They're probably worried and-"

"They'll cover for you anyway," Kemp interrupted. "Say you're at the spa or whatever with Massie."

Alicia inhaled sharply. "We do everything together, why would we not include them if we were all sleeping over at the same place-"

"Kristen doesn't want to get her nails done because of the upcoming soccer season, and Dylan already got hers done with her sisters, and Claire just didn't feel up to it, wanted to stay home with Todd," Plovert recited, as if he knew all of this because they told him. "It's easy. Besides, you two live a good ten minute drive from here."

"And I really don't want you vomiting in my car," Kemp continued. "Now eat your bagel, Rivera. You're never good at taking care of yourself after nights like this."

She shot him a dirty look, eyebrows furrowed. "How do you know?"

"Are you forgetting that I know you?"

"Not so much anymore," Alicia countered, but she popped the tiniest piece of bagel in her mouth.

"We could change that," Kemp retaliated easily, looking from her to Massie, "both of you."

Alicia made a face. "Why would you want that?"

"I don't," he said, "not in the long run at least… but you're both in _my_ house and… well, what were you going to do, ignore me? Us," he added, roping Plovert into it as an afterthought.

"We weren't going to stay," replied Massie. "Thank you for the hospitality, but-"

"Nuh uh." Kemp grabbed her wrist before she could get up. "Not driving you, remember? And you can't get a ride because then everyone will know you aren't where you claim to be, right?" He smirked, looking down at her outfit- an old Briarwood shirt with his name on the back and a pair of red plaid pajama pants that hardly fit her. "And you're not going to walk the streets of Westchester looking like a one night stand."

She refused to look at him because she knew he was right. She sighed, shook her arm out of his grip, and took a long, long sip of her iced coffee. Plovert had gotten this order right too, it seemed.

"What would you like to talk about then?" Massie asked after swallowing, looking at him expectantly.

Alicia, on her other side, was slowly but surely eating her breakfast.

"Nothing too serious- wouldn't want anyone getting the wrong idea about friendship or anything," he teased, a familiar twinkle in his eye. "How about… how was your night before, you know, this whole thing happened?" He waved a hand at Alicia, smirking when she stared back indignantly.

"I am not a _thing_!"

"You were much more than a thing last night," he agreed easily. "You were a disaster."

"Oh my god," Alicia moaned, slumping in her seat. "Was I really that bad?"

"Well," Kemp said pleasantly, reminding Alicia of Massie earlier that morning, "let's see… the first time I've interacted with you in years and you puked all over my front step."

"Oh my _god_."

Massie slapped her hand on the table. "I totally forgot to clean that last night."

"No worries. I threw it out."

"Actually Derrick threw it out," Plovert corrected, "but same thing."

"And I managed to get the stain out of your shoe," Kemp told Alicia.

She frowned. "You cleaned my shoes?"

"Yeah, I had time. They don't let me play _Injustice_ anymore because I quote-unquote cheat. Which is a damn lie."

"It's not a lie," Chris snapped. "We just can't figure out how you do it."

Kemp shrugged. "Back to the matter at hand, though: how was the football party?"

Alicia mirrored his actions, smiling without showing her teeth. "Don't remember."

"Fantastic," he muttered, elbowing Chris, who stood to throw his garbage out. "Glad Mass was there to get you here in one piece."

 _Mass?_ Alicia mouthed. Massie pressed her lips into a tight line, shaking her head once. She didn't get it either. "What do you mean 'in one piece'?" she questioned aloud.

"The football team apparently puts, like, hard drugs in their drinks," Massie trilled, beyond annoyed at this fact. "You know, so they can date-rape unsuspecting girls."

Alicia blinked. "People actually _do that_? I thought that was just a thing Kristen's mom told us to frighten us into not going to parties when we were thirteen."

"Not like that worked," Plovert muttered, most likely remembering the amount of Friday and Saturday night ragers they snuck into because they knew Harris Fisher and the older Harrington siblings. "But yeah. They do- or that's what we heard, at any rate- and when you came in like that, well…" He lifted a shoulder, scratching his eyebrow to keep from looking so concerned.

"That's really uncool," Alicia said. "I can't believe… do you think… what would have happened to me if we split up?"

"Where would I go?" Massie asked around a mouthful of bagel.

Alicia scrunched up her face in thought. "Weren't you supposed to meet Landon?"

Kemp and Plovert shared a look. "Landon Crane?" the former asked. "From ADD?"

"It was… a possibility," Massie responded vaguely. "And I'm not too stressed about missing him. I'd rather you alive and well, not somewhere drowning in your puke or anything. A boy isn't worth it. Besides." She sniffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "It's not like he texted me or anything. Claire was the one to tell me about him being there and looking for me."

"I can't believe he went to a BOCD party." Plovert whistled lowly. "That takes guts."

It was no surprise the ADD crowd didn't hang out with the BOCD kids- it was a matter of pride, rivalries, and money, so when a kid did venture out into their territory, regardless of the territory it was, it was a big deal. And this was supposed to be the biggest deal of them all, Queen Bee Massie Block and soccer captain Landon Crane, but…

"They have a thing, Massie and Landon," explained Alicia, whispering loudly.

Plovert nodded, but Kemp frowned and Massie caught on to this.

" _Had_ is a better word for it," she said. She wasn't sure why she was telling these two boys this before she even told her friends, but Alicia was right there, and… "It was a summer thing and summer is over now. I have better things to do than juggle a relationship with a boy from another school."

"You told me literally _last week_ that you really liked him!" Alicia gasped out, almost knocking her drink over. She saved it at the last second, just a little bit of light-colored coffee pooling around the cup.

Massie quirked an eyebrow. "Feelings are fickle things," she mused wisely.

Alicia stared at her and Massie stared back, hoping she was keeping her face as neutral as possible. What was she supposed to say? _Yeah, I was super into him and then I showed up here and realized I'd rather be ignored by a boy that's no good for me instead?_ Yeah, like that would fly with Alicia. They weren't even supposed to be at Kemp Hurley's. They were supposed to have gone to the dumb football victory party, Massie was supposed to kiss Landon Crane and agree to be his girlfriend, and any thought of Derrick Harrington was supposed to disappear.

It'd been two years and yet…

Massie shook her head, smiled, and blurted, "Kristen made out with Dempsey Solomon."

" _No_!"

"She texted me and asked if I still had a crush on him, and I'm like, girl in _what world_ -"

"She made out with Dempsey Solomon?" Alicia repeated.

"I mean, I don't _actually_ know. Here, let me read you the messages…"

"'Buying you that Michael Kors bomber jacket you want as an apology gift anyway.'" Plovert choked on a laugh. "What a considerate friend."

"I know, right?" Massie dropped her phone to the table. "I didn't even like him! I said he was cute in passing one time. Imagine all the clothes we'd have to buy Alicia if-"

"Oh, shut _up_!" Alicia threw her balled up napkin at Massie's face. "Is it a crime to admire the art that walks our halls?"

" _Art_!" Massie chortled. "Tell me what museum we attend classes in, please. Is it the Met? The MoMA? What kind of art is it? French? Italian? Rus- _stop throwing things_!"

Hours later found Massie and Alicia still at Kemp's house, the two of them curled up in a heap on the couch, watching _Despicable Me 2_ of all things (" _What_?" Plovert demanded defensively. "This is a quality film.") and eating shrimp lo mien with chopsticks.

Alicia had taken a nap, woke up, forgot where she was, accidentally kicked Plovert in the shoulder, and didn't throw up for the rest of the day.

Massie sent a snap (of her and Alicia's sleeping form with her favorite flower crown filter- _alive and well,_ it read, with the upside down smiley) to Dylan ( _wtf is that Kemp Hurley's living room_ ), Kristen ( _phew i'll stop the funeral preparations_ ), and Claire ( _uh text a girl next time maybe_ ).

She responded back _yes lmao tell you later_ , _tysm_ , and _oooooops ;)_

Twenty minutes after the movie ended and luckily before Alicia could drop an entire thing of wonton soup on the living room floor, Kemp ushered them into his Jeep, dropped Plovert off at his sister's dance recital, let Alicia play _Sorry Not Sorry_ by Demi Lovato seven consecutive times, and then all but shoved her out of the passenger seat when they made it to the Block estate.

"Thanks for today," Alicia said, arms full of outfit and shoes.

"Anytime, Al," Kemp replied, uncharacteristically kind, "you know that."

Alicia smiled, this bright thing against her tanned face, mascara smudges under her waterline and twenty-four hour lipstick still stuck to her mouth. "We're not friends," she replied fondly, following Massie up the walkway.

"Nope, not at all," Kemp called after them, backing out of the long driveway. "And I'll want my clothes back!"

"We'll see," Massie shouted back, lifting a hand to see him off.

.

The next week at school, to the fascination of the entire student body, Kemp and Plovert slid into the empty seats at their lunch table.

"Not friends, remember?" Alicia reminded them, scooting over to make more room for Kemp and his gigantic tray of food.

He plucked a grape tomato off her plate, popped it in his mouth, and grinned. "Didn't anyone tell you? I'm not very good at listening."


	2. Take On The World

**a/n** : a normal update for once! /cheers/ /throws confetti/

i have plans to update at least twice a month, but we'll see how that goes. i don't want to tell you something for it to not happen, but depending on how fast i write, edit, and plan i could potentially post once a week. we will have to test the waters.

this is still present-day. i will get to the past part eventually. just note that it's been two years since the boys and girls last hung out or really spoke outside of classes. a lot changes in two years but some things are very easy to slide back into (ie: Alicia and Kemp).

* * *

 _And I am your future, I am your past  
Never forget we were built to last  
Step out of the shadows and into my life  
Silence the voices that haunt you inside_  
\- "Take On The World," You Me At Six

.

"Wait a second," Kristen started, "I'm confused. We all went to the same party, right?" There was no answer, but she took the silence as an answer. "Then how did you"- she pointed to Massie and Alicia- "come back friends with Kemp Hurley and Chris Plovert?"

A week had passed since the gossip-inspiring and rumor-inducing arrival of the Dynamic Duo to the coveted Table 18. It was somehow well-known that Massie and Alicia had left the football celebration party that night without the other members of the Pretty Committee. Even more peculiarly, it had gotten around that Alicia had been intoxicated off her ass, that Massie had dragged her in four inch heels- this, for some reason, was an important detail no one left out- all the way to Kemp's house, and that they didn't leave until close to eight PM the next day.

It spurred along the wannabes and the posers, igniting an interesting flame of talk. Easily ignorable, sure, and probably something that could be stamped out in under eight hours had the rest of the Pretty Committee known, but they didn't, and that was what made it gain heat. What each rumor had in common was a secret rendezvous, but the masses couldn't quite pinpoint what it was. With the social standings of both Plovert and Kemp- bad boys of their own merit- and what people were calling the hidden "wickedness" of Massie and Alicia, it was either a threesome, a foursome, or something equally as distasteful.

Even more so, the boys hadn't returned to eat lunch with them, but they were seen saying hello in the halls. Kemp had walked Alicia to class one time though denied it when asked about it by his friends, claiming they were headed in the same direction. (They weren't.)

It was clear to both Massie and Alicia that they had kept their word about not wanting friendship in the long run, despite some interesting behavior that spoke otherwise, but to everyone else…

"I told you all of this already." Massie fixed her voluminous curls in her tiny locker mirror. "All I did was take Alicia over there because she was sick. They were kind, but that is not enough to warrant my- _our_ \- friendship."

"I should think not," Dylan snapped, indignant, cheeks flushed. "They're not the kind of boys we should be hanging around. None of them are. Not since…"

Massie met Alicia's eyes in the reflective surface. "Not since," she agreed softly, though she wasn't sure what she was really saying.

"That's all well and good," Kristen continued, "but that doesn't explain how or why you stayed at Kemp's place when _Landon_ was looking for you, or _Danny Robbins_ was trying to find Alicia, or-"

"Why does everyone think I should be interested in Skye's sloppy seconds?" Alicia wrinkled her nose, a shadow of a scoff playing on her pretty, glossed mouth. "Who cares how _rugged_ and _mysterious_ he is? His mouth has been places I don't want mine to-"

An arm wrapped around her neck, pulling her into the side of a body that smelled of _Guilty_ by Gucci and made Kristen roll her eyes. "Rugged and mysterious?" Kemp Hurley parroted, easy grin on his handsome face. "Why are you talking about me, Rivera?"

"Oh, you wish," she retorted, slipping out from under him. Kemp's face fell slightly, but he managed to keep his smirk from sliding so effortlessly that no one caught it. "What brings you to our neck of the woods, Hurley?"

He looked from her to Massie, caught the warning signs in amber eyes, and brought the same arm Alicia jumped away from up to scratch at the back of his neck. "Didn't do the U.S. History," he replied skillfully. "Was hoping you did."

Kristen snorted, mumbled something like _of course_.

Dylan kept her emerald gaze on him, biting down on the inside of her cheek.

Claire kicked at the ground with a faded white Ked.

"As the good student I am, I did do the U.S. History," Alicia said. "I'll give it to you just this once. My locker is just down that way; come, come."

Alicia sashayed down the hall, Kemp following at her heels, and Kristen mumbled flatly, "Not friends?"

Massie slammed her locker shut, holding in a shout of frustration. "What is your _problem_ , Kristen?" she demanded, spinning on her heel.

"You're lying to us," she insisted, crossing her arms over her chest. "About _Kemp Hurley_ , whom of which we hate because Dylan-"

"-please don't bring it up," the redhead cut in meekly, already looking put out.

"-because Dylan!" Kristen stumbled, the fire in her argument gone. She didn't have to say it anyway; the four girls huddled by Massie's locker all knew. They remembered. "You don't _lie_ to us, Massie," the blond continued fiercely, "you promised you would never, not after what we've been through, not when our friendship is so _important_. Or is it not to you anymore? Because that's what it feels like."

The brunette pressed her lips together, then brought a hand up to scratch at the stickiness of the lipstick stuck to the skin around her mouth. "I'm not lying," she said. "You know how annoying that boy can be, but even he doesn't want to be our friend- he made that much certain. I don't know what he's up to, I never will, but I can promise you our friendship is important to me and I would never, ever jeopardize that over… over _Kemp Hurley_."

She hoped the sincerity of her statement traveled well, that she didn't accidentally sound annoyed and artificial. No matter what happened she wasn't going to lose these three girls to insecurities and petty fights over boys. They'd done that far too many times in the past that it had taken them weeks to get over it and find the root of their friendships again. It had been stressful. There had been a time when all seemed bleak and they might not make it out alive.

"All he did was take me and Alicia in when we were in a bind," Massie explained hurriedly, not liking the set of Kristen's brow, or the tremble in Claire's mouth, or the tapping of Dylan's foot. "His fascination with us will pass, I'm sure of it. Boys like him tend to get distracted very easily."

It took a beat- and Massie might have pulled the wounded puppy card, blinking wide eyes- but Kristen deflated, and Dylan smiled, and Claire looked less like she was going to start crying, or screaming, or throwing accusations.

"I'm sorry," Kristen said. "It just feels like you don't talk to us, and that happened way before this Kemp and Plovert thing did. We had to hear _secondhand_ that you aren't interested in Landon anymore!"

"You want us to get rid of this nasty rumor?" Dylan questioned. "Terribly juvenile of them. Like you'd pick _those_ two to have a threesome with. Our school truly needs a refresher course on who you are and what you like."

Massie sighed in relief, gathered her things together, and led them down the hall. "It's not that I've been keeping anything from you," she told them, sidestepping a confused freshman. "The Landon thing happened fairly recently and Alicia was the only one there when I figured it out"- _untrue_ , a little voice whispered- "and I was going to tell you. I'm just not feeling him, you know? My infatuation with him and summer is over. Fall is here and I have more important things to worry about."

"Like what?" Claire asked, combing her hair out of her face.

"Like _what_!" Massie exclaimed, turning around to look at them all. "Well, let me tell you, Claire: our Halloween party, Dylan's birthday, pumpkin picking-"

Dylan wrinkled her nose. "We haven't gone pumpkin picking in years," she replied. "You said last year when I wanted to go that it was too dirty, and gross, and why should we pick fruits up off the ground when other people can do it for us?"

"Uh, true," said Massie, spinning back around to lead them outside. "But I'm trying to…"

 _What was she trying to do? Why were her friends looking at her like she was crazy? Was she crazy?_

It felt like she was, felt like she was… _spiraling_ and had been since Vader's party. It made no sense, though; she hadn't had much interaction with any of those boys- you know the ones- despite what people were saying, but for some reason now, she saw them everywhere. She hadn't noticed Cam and Josh in her Economics class, or Derrick all the way in the back in second period French, but they were there.

Kemp and Plovert had moved their seats so casually in Alicia and Massie's shared U.S. History class that the two girls hadn't realized it until Alicia turned to Plovert and said, "Hey, Chris, what did you get for question fourteen?"

Looking at her friends, Massie suddenly felt the neglect. It sure did look like Alicia and Massie were branching off and away from them. There was discomfort in the bow of Kristen's lips, unease in the way Claire shoved her hands in her pockets. Dylan looked unruffled but she could easily see through it. It was almost as if the three of them didn't know how to be friends without her, without Alicia, and it scared Massie to think that maybe that was the case. Maybe they were falling apart. Maybe she was, too, because she hadn't noticed. She'd been spending all of her time with Alicia.

So she did what she assumed was best and told them a little secret about herself. Or she tried.

"I don't like pumpkin picking, but not because it's dirty or I don't want to do it," she started, and her voice was low, as it should be when a hidden piece of yourself was about to be unleashed. "It's because it was something I used to do with-"

They stepped into the courtyard, full of bustling students and teachers trying to find their cars, and Massie faltered- with her voice, not her feet- all the words she'd been about to say piling up on the tip of her tongue.

"Used to do it with…?" Claire inquired, a little too loudly.

Dylan slapped her hand on the blond's shoulder. "Shut up, Kuh-laire," she hissed. "Use your eyes, maybe."

There, against one of the brick walls of Octavian Country Day (or Briarwood-Octavian Country Day, but even after so many years the girls couldn't call it that), in this beige, slightly oversized sweater and black jeans artfully ripped at the knees, was Derrick Harrington.

And with him: Sadie Meltzer.

"Oh," said Claire.

" _Oh_ ," Massie agreed, sweeping past the two. She tossed her hair over her shoulder, moved in a way that guaranteed the two of them would be able to smell her Chanel perfume when she did so, and brought her girls to a stop at their picnic table, the one with the long, low-hanging branches of an oak tree overhead.

Kristen dropped her backpack, heavy with the weight of all of her advanced placement books, on the ground beside them, not at all caring about the way it might dirty. Dylan, on the other hand, placed her Kate Spade tote on her lap.

"You don't… like him, do you?" Claire asked, frowning. She rifled through her own bag, found a LUNA bar, broke a piece off and offered it to the redhead on her other side.

Dylan chewed on it thoughtfully, watching Massie's face.

The brunette sat across from the three of them, back to the tree, with a perfect view of the grounds… including the pair over by the side doors. She made sure she didn't look at them, though out of the corner of her eye she saw the way he smiled at Sadie, and the way she giggled back, and how Sadie looked better, more mature now that she cut all of that hair off…

She scoffed at Claire's question, remembered the rude way in which Derrick asked why she and Alicia were at Kemp's even though it had been _obvious_. "No," she replied, because she didn't. Not really. "It's just… a thing we used to do together. That's all. I can easily make better memories there with you guys."

Massie allowed herself a glance now, making sure her lips turned down into a disgusted frown. He looked good. He looked _really_ good. She hadn't noticed that in the dark of Kemp's living room. His hair was no longer shaggy and in his face; he looked more like Chace Crawford circa season three of _Gossip Girl_ \- and now he was kissing Sadie Meltzer, and Massie didn't have to force her mouth to do anything.

She just hoped it didn't look as disappointed as she felt. Which was a weird thing for her to feel since she one hundred percent absolutely did not like him.

She was just thinking about pumpkins. And fall. It was really all fall's fault. Again.

"We can destroy her," Dylan offered helpfully. "It would be really easy, in fact. She's definitely got a scandal or two under her belt, I mean why would you cut your hair so drastically…"

"I could spread one, if not," said Kristen.

"Todd is friends with her brother. Maybe he can, like, steal her diary-"

Massie blinked, turned her head, and saw that her friends had followed her gaze.

"We're not destroying anyone," she said. "There's no reason for it."

"Then why were you-"

"Sadie's hair looks really nice," supplied Massie, which was the truth, and it was so annoying. "When did she cut it?"

Dylan and Kristen shared a look. Claire answered, "Over the summer."

"Let's go pumpkin picking," Massie decided.

"It's September thirteenth," Kristen reminded her. "The leaves haven't started changing yet. I'm not sure pumpkins are…"

"Pumpkins?" Alicia's voice sounded, light and airy. Kemp trailed behind her, carrying two trays of large Starbucks drinks. "I found this excellent recipe for sangria that we can drink out of half of one."

She sidled into her usual seat beside Massie, pulling venti-sized white chocolate mochas and caramel macchiatos and hot apple ciders out of the trays and distributing them to their rightful recipients. "I forced him to buy our drinks in exchange for my homework," she explained.

Massie immediately took a long gulp of her macchiato, ignoring the way it burned her throat on the way down.

Dylan stared at hers, narrowing green eyes at the cup as if it had offended her new haircut.

"It's not poisoned," Kemp said, sliding in next to Alicia and propping his foot up so he could tie his shoe.

"Coming from you, I wouldn't be so surprised."

"Dylan, please," Kemp murmured, looking up. His face was unreadable, but his eyes spoke volumes, and he probably would have too, had Dylan given him the chance.

"It was _my birthday_ ," she hissed at him, shooting him one of her more nastier glares. It was an unnecessary comment, though, but his cheeks still reddened considerably and he had the gall, in Dylan's opinion, to look embarrassed.

Alicia shifted uncomfortably beside him, hand lifted towards her drink but also towards his arm.

Dylan saw this, all but bared her teeth in outrage, and flipped her hair over her shoulder. "I understand that Massie was being a good friend when you went to his house after you got so _embarrassingly_ drunk at a party, like can you not control your-"

"Hey, don't talk to her like-"

"Oh, he defends you now," Dylan cooed maliciously. "How nice."

"I wouldn't have to if you acted like you were her friend," Kemp snapped at the same time Alicia said, "He's not defending me."

The redhead rolled her eyes. "What was it you said about not being friends, Mass?"

"I'm not the one that brought him over here," Massie retorted, wishing Dylan had enough tact to keep her voice low and this between them.

She didn't.

"True," Dylan agreed, "but you also aren't making him leave. If Derrick came over here, I would make sure he-"

"We're not friends," Alicia cut in quickly. Bringing Derrick up was never a good idea and she could tell by the way Massie chewed on the inside of her cheek and Dylan quirked an eyebrow that something terrible was about to happen. "I ended up at his house, yes, but I hardly remember being there. I… I don't even _want_ to be his friend, but he offered to buy our coffees, and who am I to turn _that_ down?"

For the second time that hour, Kemp's face fell, but he wasn't as fast to stop it as he was earlier, and despite all the talk, Alicia's hand still made it to Kemp's thigh, squeezing lightly.

"And yet," Dylan began, though she couldn't see what the Latina did, "he's still here."

Massie watched Kemp's hand cover the one Alicia had on his leg. His fingers gently curled around hers, a ghost of a hold. She looked at these two dark hands, remembered a friendship that had been dismantled by lies, lack of communication, and Dylan's insecurities ( _no offense, Mass, but I think Kemp is my best friend_ ), and flicked her gaze up to look at their faces.

Kemp had thrown his first punch when they were twelve and one of the older boys on the middle school soccer team made lewd comments about Alicia's figure.

Alicia had torn Olivia Ryan to shreds at age thirteen when she remarked, very casually, that Kemp was probably the ugliest of the Briarwood Boys... and she had been really, _really_ good friends with Olivia at the time.

Now, they- Kemp and Alicia- hadn't talked in years, but managed to find comfort in each other after all this time. Kemp had been surprisingly sweet and attentive last week when all other times they'd interacted with him- with _them_ \- he'd been rude and dismissive. (But never to Alicia, if anyone ever noticed.)

Alicia's hold on his leg was the only thing keeping him from leaping over that table and throttling Dylan and his gentle grasp on her hand seemed to keep her in check as well. There was a lot less yelling and crying- Alicia did that when she confronted people sometimes- and Massie would be stupid to think it was because these two loud, abrasive people had somehow matured drastically in the past five minutes.

And if Massie couldn't tell her friends who they could and could not hang out with- and she couldn't, she wouldn't; she wasn't that person anymore- neither could Dylan. She was sure she was mature enough that if Derrick came up here and wanted to be, like… Claire's friend, she'd be okay with it.

Maybe.

"It's probably because he wasn't expecting to be attacked for buying our coffees," she blurted out, effortlessly sliding into Team Kemp's corner. "Normally ' _thank you_ ' is more than sufficient."

Claire gasped so loudly she actually covered her mouth with her hands.

Dylan considered Massie, a smile playing on the corners of her mouth. "I am so used to defending you that I forget sometimes," she said, "but thank you for reminding me what a liar you are, Massie."

"You're welcome," returned Massie, two parts bitchy and one part confused.

"Great." Dylan nodded once. "Glad that we're on the same page. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll just upset and humiliate _you_ by telling Derrick you still-"

" _Dylan_!"

Luckily the girl hadn't gotten up, but she had said Derrick's name so loudly the boy in question turned his head to look- no, glare- at them. Sadie Meltzer turned her pretty face, too, and Massie felt her cheeks burn, but she resolutely stared forward, meeting Dylan's fiery gaze.

She had every right to be upset, Massie knew. Alicia knew this. Kemp knew this. The entire school knew some shit had gone down between the Pretty Committee and the first-string varsity soccer boys at the start of ninth grade, but none of them knew what. Dylan and Kemp started it, though, so it was rather interesting to see him sitting there, so close to Alicia, being defended by Massie, getting snapped at by Dylan… but keeping his own mouth shut.

"It was my _birthday_ ," Dylan said again. "They were _my sisters_."

Kemp's eyes met hers and the expression on his face was so earnest, so _honest_ , that even Claire, the nicest of them all, couldn't stand to look at it. "I know it doesn't change anything," he began, voice rough. Alicia gripped his hand. "But I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, I was dr-"

"That may be the case," Dylan said, voice cold. She pulled the coffee cup closer to her, took a delicate sip. "But in reality, you were just being the slut you are. How many girls have you slept with now? Probably the whole sophomore class at this point."

"Uncalled for," Kristen reprimanded. Dylan scoffed.

"You weren't even together at that point," Alicia piped up, face twisted, red and ugly.

"Doesn't matter," Dylan replied, popping the lid on her drink. Steam rose from the liquid and she blew on it, cooling it down. "He was still mine… and they were _my sisters_."

Massie refrained from sighing. "You mentioned that."

"Wouldn't it have bothered you if your- your-"

"Your _what_?" Kemp burst out, thunderous and intimidating. If they weren't being stared at before, they were now; everyone loved a good public Pretty Committee fight. "What was I, Dylan? I most certainly was not yours, I was not your- your _property_ , or- or yours to claim. _You_ had broken up with _me_ , weeks earlier, remember?"

"I remember very clearly," Dylan retorted. "Most of it doesn't matter anymore, not really, but that didn't mean you were allowed to do what you did."

"Dylan-"

"Thank you for the coffee, Kemp," she bit out, lying through her teeth, "but you can keep it. Have fun with your _friends_."

And right before Dylan got up to march out of the courtyard, she took her drink, now lukewarm at best (she wasn't a monster), and tossed it in the direction of Kemp's face.

.

There was a bathroom on the third floor, right between Mr. Myner's office and Mrs. Turner's English classroom, that was always out of order. Janitors came and went, but the plumbing problem, and the rusty water issue, and the faulty lights seemed unfixable. And they always would be, as the majority of BOCD believed; thanks to the incredible acting of the Marvil twins years earlier and rumors and whispers of today's Elite, unless you were part of the It Crowd, you had no idea this bathroom was functioning at all.

And functioning it was: it had the best lighting, floor-to-ceiling mirrors along one wall, and a small couch. In a tiny wicker basket, every magazine from Seventeen to Sports Illustrated was located, nice and neat by the love seat. Girls left favorite lipsticks on the counter over the years, deep reds and spunky purples, and stocked the room with Q-tips, perfumes, and face washes. Boys- though they hardly used it in the same capacity the girls did- made sure to keep a supply of deodorants and colognes next to the girls' nail polish collection underneath the mirror.

An _OUT OF ORDER_ sign was pasted to the door. It'd been there when the Pretty Committee started school. It would remain up long after they were gone.

"Out, out, _out,_ " Claire Lyons commanded, waving her hands at the ninth grade Ripple Baxter and her Fearsome Foursome as if they were nothing more than a pesky fly.

Ripple, tanned, tall, and lean, rolled her eyes, placed a hand on her cocked hip, and stood her ground for once. "For what reason?"

Claire blinked. "Because I said so?"

"You don't own this bathroom," Ripple retorted.

"Oh," the blond returned easily, crossing her arms over her chest. "I do, though, don't I? This bathroom wouldn't be here for you to"- she looked around, sniffed, and Massie-esque smirk played upon her lips- "get high in if I didn't make sure that sign stayed up on that door. This is Pretty Committee turf now. _Out_."

The Layne Abeley lookalike- Janelle, Claire thought her name was- protested loudly, "But we didn't even finish!"

And Claire did not care. "Too bad, so sad, _move it._ "

"Claire, when did you become such a bitc-"

" _Ohmigawd_ , is that _Kemp Hurley_ -"

"It looks like him, but why would he be coming in with-"

" _Ohmygod_ -"

"You guys are so lame, it's just- holy shit, he looks so good in that shirt."

It was weird watching a group of girls that somehow looked both twelve and eighteen at the same time- wow, makeup did wonders- fawn over Kemp Hurley. Normally that sort of thing was saved for the Derrick Harringtons and Josh Hotzes of the world, the Kemps, and Ploverts, and even the Cam Fishers thrown to the wayside. Yet here they were, staring wide-eyed, pink-cheeked, and slightly delirious as Kemp stumbled in, tripping over Massie's leg.

"Claire, move, why are you so- oh." Massie's voice sounded behind her, and the brunette all but slammed into her in the doorway. She looked as regal as ever, Claire could see in the mirrors across from them, even though she was half-covered in Dylan's coffee. "You've got to be kidding," she bleated and with a double-clap of her hands, she ordered, "File out, twerpy bitches… and close your mouths. It's not like One Direction walked in and got back together right before your eyes."

"Wouldn't that be something," one of the blonds, an odd mixture of Kristen and Olivia Ryan, murmured wistfully.

Ripple hip-checked her, frowning at Massie. "What are _you_ doing with Kemp Hurley?"

The boy in question shouldered past Massie, headed straight to the sink. "Having a fucking picnic," he snapped, "what does it look like?"

What it looked like: He was drenched in a venti caramel-scented blended coffee. It stained the front of his white henley, splattered across his face, and made his jeans look as if he'd peed himself. His expression was less than pleased and the irritated sneer on his mouth was directed at Ripple's little clique. He was terrifying.

"Well, it looks like-"

"The rumors were wrong," Massie said over Ripple, brushing her fingers through the damp ends of her hair. "The threesome is me, Claire, and Kemp, and we'd really like to get to it."

Claire rolled her eyes, stepping to the side and allowing Massie entrance. "I really don't want to be involved in this, thanks."

"Why are you guys _wet_?" another of the Fearsome Foursome inquired, stepping on her tiptoes to get a better look. She was a carbon copy of Alicia, right down to the outfit she was wearing; it was an exact replica of the older girl's last day of school outfit from the previous year. It looked like she even bought Alicia's old shoes from Kendra Block's fundraiser earlier that August.

"I'm not wet," Claire replied.

"That's not what I- oh my god, _Alicia_!"

The Latina strolled in as confidently as one could in her condition- hair tangled, sweater a deep, dark gray, face blotchy, and eyes red. She took one look at Ripple, at Alicia 2.0, at the Layne Abeley clone, at the Olivia-Kristen mix, and wailed, " _Oh my god, what are you doing here_?"

Kemp lifted his head from where he was vigorously scrubbing at the front of his shirt. "They were just leaving," he snarled, and that was when everyone remembered just how mean he really was. "Come over here, Leesh."

Alicia hesitated, lingering in the hall, eyes wide as saucers.

"Alicia," Kemp said impatiently, eyes narrowed as he looked at her. " _Ali_ ," he tried again.

She remained rooted to the spot.

Ripple sensed something here- some sort of tension, a change- something she could use as blackmail, maybe, and she stepped forward, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. Massie slid in front of her friend, met the younger girl's gaze. "Don't even think about it, Ripple Baxter," she said, low and menacing, just as intimidating as Kemp. "I will end you if you even think about it."

Ripple smiled.

"Oh god, _who cares_ ," he snapped. "Rivera, stop looking like you saw a ghost and get your ass over here. I don't care who knows about us. Massie already publicly announced our friendship, so-"

" _Don't care who knows_ -"

" _Friendship_?"

Kemp regarded them as if they were the dirt beneath his shoes. "While you were here getting high, Dylan Marvil threw her entire coffee at us, and-"

"-not me," Claire added quickly. "She didn't throw her coffee at me."

"-and not Claire," Kemp amended, rolling his eyes. "Your weed is bad, by the way. You get from Griffin Hastings, right? He's the worst. Abeley is better."

Massie was still in a stare down with Ripple, head cocked, eyes blazing.

Alicia, on the other hand, meekly- something she most certainly _never_ was- murmured, "We're not, like, _friends_ -friends. He, uh, bought us coffee because I gave him the US History homework and Dylan didn't take it too-"

"-naturally," Ripple interrupted, smirk widening, "because Kemp was dating her when he hooked up with-"

"They were _not_ dating!" Alicia snapped, stomping her foot. "Kemp did nothing wro-"

"We're _friends_ -friends," Massie cut in smoothly. With a flick of her chin, she strode forward, forcing Ripple back, lording herself over the fourteen-year-old quite easily. No one understood the politics of alphas, not really, but regardless of age, Massie had always been the best. Even now, in soiled clothing. "I don't turn my back on people like Kemp."

"You did though, once, did you not?"

"People like Kemp? What does that mea-"

"I believe it's time you left," Massie replied curtly, gesturing to the door. "I'll let you spread the news that the Pretty Committee- or at least Claire, Alicia, and I- are friends with Kemp again. And Chris Plovert."

"I never said I was," Claire started, but Massie shot her a glare.

Ripple pursed her lips. "But _why_ are you friends again?"

"Does it matter?" Alicia demanded, finding herself again. She sauntered past them all, occupying the sink beside Kemp, twisting the knobs and cleaning her sticky hands. "Add in the tidbit about Dylan throwing the coffee at us as well. It was mainly towards Kemp-"

"-no, I think she was aiming for you, too-"

"- _thanks_ , Claire," Alicia hissed. To Ripple, she continued, "Not that it matters much anyway; half the school saw that happen, but I'm sure you could twist it to make it benefit you in some way."

Though the offer was tempting, Ripple merely stared, blinked, and widened her stance. "This isn't very fair, I don't think," she said. "This bathroom is for _all_ Populars, and-"

" _Unless_ there is a crisis, and this is one," Massie reminded her, voice brusque. "Check the fine print in the Facebook group, yeah? _Go_."

The young alpha did not leave, did not look at all like she was considering moving. She looked over at Alicia and Kemp, who had a long and bloody history of friendship, standing shoulder to shoulder and uncomfortably ignoring each other.

Or Alicia was. Kemp was eyeing her from the mirror, watching her every move in between broad, rough scrubs of a paper towel on his shirt. (He really should have been blotting.)

Massie sighed, rolled her sleeves up like she was about to conduct an experiment or start a fist fight, and offered, very courteously, very painstakingly, "I'll throw your birthday party."

Ripple quirked a brow, but said nothing.

"At my house," she added. "I'll throw your birthday party at my house."

"Excellent," Ripple said immediately. "Deal."

Claire snorted, fixing her bangs in the mirror.

"Great." Massie forced a smile. "Send me a list of your top ten favorite things and themes and I'll get to work. Your birthday's in October, right?"

"Yeah," Ripple said around a grin, "and I want it to be your Halloween party."

Alicia's head shot up so fast she could have given herself whiplash. Her balled-up paper towel fell into the water in the sink in front of her. "You can't just _merge_ Halloween _and_ a birthday. We don't even do it for Dylan..."

Massie lifted a hand, effectively shushing her, but Alicia still stared at the mirror in front of her, horrified, as the brunette alpha replied, "Done. As long as you leave Alicia's appearance here out of the rumors I'm sure you'll start."

Ripple smiled, a Cheshire Cat grin of epic proportions, and lifted a hand to shake Massie's. "I don't know what you're talking about, Massie Block," she returned, "I don't even see Alicia here."

"Excellent," said Massie. "I don't either."

"Enjoy the rest of your day. I'll text you."

The quartet filed out past them and as the bathroom door swung shut, they heard Alicia 2.0 whisper viciously, "Dylan Marvil is _so_ dead to me."

Kemp coughed around his nasty snicker.

Claire broke the silence when the four ninth graders were out of earshot. "I can't believe they call us _Populars_. How tacky."

"I can't believe you're planning Ripple's birthday," Alicia said.

"I can't believe that worked," Kemp muttered, wringing out the ends of his shirt. When that proved futile, he shrugged one shoulder, lifted the damp fabric over his head, and tossed it in a ball into the sink. "How did that work, by the way?"

Massie leaned against the wall of mirror, admiring the definition in Kemp's stomach. "The Halloween party always outshines Ripple's birthday, so she has to plan a party in September, which she hates," she explained, as if it made any sense. "She resents me. _Us_. The Pretty Committee. We've had Halloween as our holiday since seventh grade."

"Ah, yes." Kemp nodded sagely. "That masterpiece."

"Hardly." Alicia snorted. "That party was a shit show."

"Sure, if I remember it correctly," Kemp agreed, head ducked, extremely focused on the stain he'd almost partially removed from his shirt, "but it was also the day I met you."

Alicia's cheeks flushed a violent red. She stumbled over her words and when she couldn't think of anything else to say, she pressed her lips together and shoved her hands beneath the faucet water.

"As great as this is," Claire began, now running her finger underneath her waterline to clear her skin of mascara, "I didn't sign up for it."

"You did when you came here with us," Massie reminded her. "If you have a problem with what's going on in this bathroom right now, then you can leave." Claire stayed put. "Yeah, I thought so. Now… what kind of things does Ripple even like? I can't be held responsible for a terrible party just because Ripple has no compelling interests…"

"You don't have to throw the party," Alicia said.

"I do if you want to keep your reputation safe," Massie replied, picking at her leggings. "It would get around just like _that_ "- she snapped her fingers- "that you're, like, sleeping with Kemp if word got out that you were here with us right now. We split up on our way here just to make sure of it."

"And who even knows what people think after Dylan's outburst," Claire chimed in, now piling her hair on the top of her head. "Love her, but she doesn't think things through a lot of the time."

"You and Claire walked Kemp here," Alicia said slowly, "what does that say about you guys?"

Claire sniffed, rolling her eyes. "That the threesome was between Kemp, Massie, and me," she said. "Did you hear that or were you still down the hall?"

"I heard it, but I didn't think…"

"I know Ripple," said Claire. "Todd hangs out with her sometimes. She'll probably spread that instead of this thing about friendship. That's not very interesting."

"And you don't care?"

Claire shrugged. "People have been talking about me since I was twel-"

"What I care about," Massie interrupted, "is what I'm going to do about our Halloween party!"

Before the three girls could get into a conversation about themes, and drinks, and things Ripple might or might not like, Kemp lifted his shirt, inspected the stain, and said, very loudly (and interrupting their tiny argument about the merits of white versus off-white), "Does anyone _actually_ know how to get coffee out of clothes?"

Apparently this was not as important as tablecloths and party planners and the tiny thought that Ripple might have a terrible Halloween costume already picked out. Kemp blinked at them as they fired off idea after idea and when it was clear they had no intention of answering him, he muttered, "No? Okay, Chris probably does. I'm gonna call him."


	3. White Houses

**a/n:** another update! jeez, i'm on a roll. i hope this continues because i really enjoy writing this. it calms me. i'm glad you all seem to like this version! i was super nervous going into it because i butchered the story last time around, but this feels good to me. and for anyone who wants some derrick, or cam, or josh, you'll get them soon. right now, chris and kemp are at the forefront but the others are coming!

to the anon who asked about _ignite_ : that story is complete, so there will be no updates on that. but if there is enough interest, i suppose i could write a little oneshot about our fav boyband ;)

and in other news, i reread _sealed with a diss_ and quite honestly it was ridiculous and i loved it and i fell in love with all the boys. like why did massie push derrick away when he was being all cute at slice of heaven? i would have killed for that at the age of twelve. actually, i'd kill for that now tbh.

anyway, please let me know what you'd like to see specifically- pairings are open (for the most part) and i am very willing to hear your opinions!

* * *

 _Maybe you were all faster than me  
_ _We gave each other up so easily  
These silly little wounds will never mend_  
 _I feel so far from where I've been  
_ \- "White Houses," Vanessa Carlton

.

"Oh, she's definitely fucking him, did you see-"

"-wearing his sweatshirt-"

"-threesome probably _did_ happen-"

"-walked out together, the three of them-"

"-Claire Lyons, too-"

"-ple Baxter has something on them, she wouldn't be planning a birthday party unless-"

"Wait, look! No, don't _actually_ look, but-"

"I've heard a bunch of rumors lately," another voice, much different, more familiar, deeper, announced above Massie, "and I would just like some clarification on one. Are we friends?"

She lifted her head, regarding him with a coy smile. "The one about the second threesome is truer than that," she teased.

Chris Plovert smiled, gesturing to the bench across from her. "Any of these seats taken?"

"Not at the moment," she returned easily, eyes twinkling, "but they're reserved for friends only, so-"

"-so I'm just in luck!" the boy exclaimed settling himself down. "Thank goodness we're friends or else I'd have nowhere to sit this afternoon."

Massie blinked at him, tilting her head to the side. "The world is your oyster, Christopher," she reminded him. "There are plenty of seats all over this place."

"This just… it feels like the place to be," he replied, almost flirtatiously. Massie kicked him in the shin. "Anywhere you are is where I want to be, you are the sunshine of my life, I have never seen beauty such as-"

She kicked him again. "I regret all my decisions in the past week."

"Don't be like that, my darling." Chris tutted. "If we are not friends, then we are sleeping together, and while you are unbelievably attractive, I am afraid you are not quite my type."

"I stand by my statement." Pause. "And I'm everyone's type."

"Massie," he whined, dragging out the 'e.'

"Yes?"

He leaned forward, hand clasping hers, and she watched as he wiggled his fingers between her own. "In all seriousness, are you alright?" he asked, dropping the act. Everyone stared at them anyway, whispering this, and that, and something about _secret romances_ or _unexpected lovers_. "You look like shit."

She listened to the chatter around them- they really did _not_ know how to gossip- and considered the speculations. Why did it matter what Massie Block did? Who she hung out with? Who she was seen with? Chris squeezed her fingers, pulling her back to him.

"I liked you before," she admitted, looking away from his blue eyes and surveying the courtyard. She accidentally made eye contact with Derrick Harrington and she tore her gaze from his, hoping her cheeks did not give her racing heart away.

Chris cleared his throat. "You are the most beautiful girl I see-"

"-I'm the only girl you're looking at-"

"-but that doesn't change the fact that you do, indeed, look like shit. I say this in the nicest way possible."

Massie made a face, holding eye contact while she debated telling him the truth. They weren't friends, not really, even if she said they were, even if they were sitting here, holding hands across the same picnic table that caused her so much trouble just the day before. She looked at him, took Chris Plovert in in his entirety, saw past the handsome face, the neglected facial hair (which seemed to only heighten his attractiveness), the eyes hidden behind glasses.

She looked at him, _really_ looked at him, and saw the boy she used to know: the cute, nerdy one, who stuttered around girls and went to bat for Derrick Harrington and the rest of his friends, even if they were the ones at fault. He was there, somewhere, hiding behind the whole _face_ thing he had going on now, behind rumors and truths and the bad boy persona he embraced as easily as Kemp had.

She chose to confide in _that_ boy- the one she knew, the one she'd loved- not the one that slept with a (student) teacher, not the one the rest of BOCD admired.

"Ripple is driving me crazy," she told him, and she launched into a tale of her night, full of incessant text messages and phone calls. She told him about the girl's adamance towards the color rose gold, how she was thinking about being a simple _cat_ for Halloween. She confessed that Dylan had given her the cold shoulder all night, hadn't even bothered to show up when they went to pick her up in the morning. She mentioned that Kristen seemed distant, and Claire hadn't wanted to partner up in English. She almost told him that Derrick staring at her right now made her- _what did it make her?_ \- but she stopped, shaking her head.

Massie had spoken for ten minutes, at least, and all Chris said was, "You don't have to take responsibility for any of this."

She blinked. "What?"

"Look," he started, and then he cleared his throat. "I know you're, like, the little leader here, but you're only ever accountable for yourself. You can't control Dylan, you can't protect Alicia, you can't get everyone to feel a certain way."

"I _know_ that," Massie snapped irritably, annoyed with him now. She tried to pull her hand away, but Chris merely tightened his grip; her rings dug into the skin of his fingers, but he didn't seem to care or notice. "I know that I can't, but-"

"But nothing," Chris insisted. "You don't deserve to feel this way because of something you honestly cannot control. Look at you, Massie- you're a mess, and because of what? Ripple Baxter is not the only person who can spread a rumor. There were plenty of people who saw you guys yesterday. I know for a fact that Ripple didn't say anything, but-"

"-how do you know that?"

He gave her a _look_. "We made sure of it."

"We?"

Chris smiled at her, an adorable little thing with just a hint of mischief. "Kemp and I have… we have a lot of power here. If you didn't know."

Massie pursed her lips as the images of Chris blurred together in front of her. On one hand, she saw the Class President, straight A, nicest boy in the world and then on the other, she saw the bad boy, leather-jacket wearing, smooth-talking, punch-throwing version of him.

She remembered the first day of school last year, when he made Missy Cambridge cry, got involved in a fist fight Kemp started with Miles Burke, and almost got suspended for getting caught with weed brownies. All it took was a batting of his lashes and a sweet, innocent smile and Principal Burns turned the other way (which was totally unfair because had it been Massie, she'd be expelled. _Again_ ).

"So do I," she replied sourly.

"Sure you do," he said. It felt like he was mocking her. "But you're not… what is that word you girls used to use? _HART_?" Now he _was_ mocking her, she was sure of it. "You're not HARTs"- he smirked- "and you can't exactly sway the female population the way we can. I'll let you in on a little secret," he whispered, leaning closer to her. "To keep Ripple quiet, Kemp is going on a date with her this weekend."

"I'm already keeping her quiet!"

"Reinforcement." Chris pulled back and stretched, practically dragging Massie across the table as he did so. "Listen, all I'm trying to say is you don't have to plan this party if it's giving you so much grief. Kemp and I have it handled."

The rest of the sentence- _more handled than you_ \- hung unspoken between them.

After a moment of silence, Massie said, "You're an annoying friend."

Her upper body was still across the tabletop, her hips digging into the side rather painfully. Their noses touched; that would probably stir some more rumors. She could hear them now: _Massie picked Chris Plovert over Kemp! Is Massie going to tear Plovert and Kemp apart? What about Alicia?_

"I do my best," he returned, and then, much to her chagrin and the interest of the prying eyes, he kissed her nose.

"Chris!" she admonished.

"Would you like to get some coffee?" he asked. "My treat."

He ignored her complaints, stuff about how he shouldn't be putting his mouth anywhere near her face, and people were going to start _thinking_ things, and _I don't want to be your friend if you're going to manhandle me like this!_

"You're funny," he told her, pulling her out of her seat. "I like this version of you more than I liked middle school you."

She quirked an eyebrow. "You liked middle school me?"

"No," he said, "that's the point."

Massie smacked his bicep. "I'm getting the most expensive coffee on the menu!"

"I expect nothing less from the fairest maiden in the land," he teased, bowing. He reached his hand out for hers again; she allowed him to take it without a second thought.

.

 ** _Derrick Harrington_** : dont sit near me today or i might stab u in the eye  
 ** _Derrick Harrington_** : this has been a PSA

.

 **aleesharivera** (20m)  
 _are_ ** _cplov47_** _and_ ** _mmmblock_** _dating? am i in a whirlwind polyamorous relationship with_ ** _kemphurley_** _and_ ** _lyonsroar_** _? more at 11  
_ 1 comment / 41 retweets / 87 likes

 **mmmblock** _  
_replying to ** _aleesharivera_** _  
a newscaster on the rise  
_ 39 retweets / 98 likes

.

In the middle of telling a story about Todd, a swimming lesson, and a pesky Chihuahua, Claire knocked her water bottle over.

There was a loud metal clang and a stream of clear liquid traveled halfway down the length of table eighteen. Kristen lifted her textbook, Dylan swiped her phone into her lap, and Alicia watched it curiously as it pooled into a small puddle between Dylan's Gatorade and Kristen's iced coffee.

Claire giggled, leaning forward to dab at the mess with a wad of napkins.

"You talk with your arms," Kristen reminded her, looking up from her book and laughing. "We have to keep everything away from you. Remember when she knocked over that entire thing of pudding at the Christmas party last year?"

Dylan laughed. Claire reddened. Even Alicia cracked a smile, though she was still staring intently at the blond.

"Oh-kaaaaay," she half-whined. "It was an _accident_!" But the way she caught Alicia's eye, meeting her head-on, proved to Alicia what she had already speculated: this was deliberate.

Claire nodded her head subtly, gesturing with her chin to something behind Alicia, and then continued to shoot defenses at Dylan and Kristen, swapping sodden napkins for dry ones.

She wanted to turn around, wanted to see what Claire saw- though she had an inkling what it was- but she knew she couldn't. She had unfortunately sat in the worst seat at the table today, her back towards everything, but she hadn't wanted to see everyone staring at her, watching her every move.

They'd been doing that too often this week. She just wanted a break.

"Hey, Leesh," Claire started casually, doing that thing she did with her hair when she was about to ask a question (brushing her long side bangs out of her face), "can you get me some more water while I focus on cleaning this?"

Normally Alicia would say _no, get your own_ , but she merely blinked this time. "Sure," she said, which made Kristen frown. "I need to get more mayo for my tuna salad anyway."

"You're the best," Claire told her.

 _You don't really think that_ , Alicia thought, but stood up, turned, and finally saw what made Claire knock her drink over in the first place.

It was Kemp Hurley, standing in the middle of the cafeteria, confused and out of place, eyes on his usual lunch table.

From what Alicia could see, only three (of the boys) were there. Cam Fisher was the only one to look right at Kemp, shaking his head. Derrick Harrington's back was ramrod straight, his attention on Sadie Meltzer, who was looking at Kemp with furrowed brows. Josh Hotz kept his head down, playing with his food.

Kemp slid his hands into his pockets, rocked back onto his heels, and looked thoughtful.

Alicia, despite her better judgment and the voice in her head that sounded remarkably like Massie, took the long way to the kitchen, making sure to bump her shoulder against Kemp's as she passed him. They were the same height today, thanks to the shoes she was wearing. And they were killer, thank you very much.

His face lit up, but he kept his hands in his pockets.

"Kitchen," she murmured. She tossed a handful of wet napkins in the trash, avoided looking back (or at her table), and sauntered off, gaze set on the double doors on the other side of the room.

Seven footsteps later, she heard him follow her.

She just hoped it was discreet enough.

"Hey," he whispered, sidling up beside her as she perused the condiments.

"Hey."

"I don't think I can sit over there," he muttered, keeping his distance in case someone saw them. "I think Derrick might kill me."

"You too?" another voice questioned, and Chris Plovert swooped in, tanned arm going between them to grab a mineral water. "Did you get the same text as me?"

"Text?"

Massie's voice sounded next, somehow both raspy and light: "He threatened to stab him in the eye."

"This has been a PSA," Chris and Massie said at the same time, snickering.

"I didn't get any text," Kemp said to Chris.

"Nice jacket," Alicia said to Massie.

The brunette grinned and Alicia noticed then she was holding that chicken avocado panini she'd debated on earlier. "I told Chris he could sit with us," Massie remarked, "so if Kemp wants to…"

"Oh." The boy in question stopped looking for something to eat, brushing a hand through his hair. "I was just going to go outside, I think. I don't want to intrude."

"Nonsense," she insisted. "It's cold out."

"I think I can manage," Kemp replied. "I don't want to start anything."

"You won't."

"Is Dylan there?"

Alicia nodded.

"Then I will," admitted Kemp, "and as great as getting coffee thrown on me was, I really don't want it to happen again."

"She needs to learn to get over it," Chris stated, looking torn between the buffalo chicken flatbread and the triple-decker reuben sandwich.

Kemp shot him a look. "Get over it, Plov?" he repeated, moving out of the way so a freshman could grab the last cranberry cashew salad. "I had a _threesome_ with her sisters at her own birthday party."

"Yeah, and like everyone said yesterday, you two were not dating when it happened," the other boy reminded him. "In fact, you said so yourself, so why are you suddenly so timid?"

"I'm not _timid_ ," Kemp insisted. "I just don't want to ruin any friendships."

Alicia kept her gaze on the rows of muffins behind the counter, but she felt the heat of his stare on the back of her neck. It matched the one growing on her cheeks. What he meant to say: He didn't want to ruin _her_ friendships.

"Just come sit with us, Kemp," Massie said. "Not to be as insensitive as Chris, but… she kind of does need to get over it."

It looked and sounded like she wanted to say something else, but she kept her mouth shut. Alicia knew her well enough to know that it was probably something to do with Derrick, or Josh, and the way they fell apart. The way they _all_ fell apart.

That was the difference between Massie and Dylan though. Massie was poised and graceful; she had an image to maintain and that image, the one she carefully crafted from the seventh grade on, insisted she remain cold, calm, levelheaded. She wasn't known as an Ice Queen for nothing.

Dylan was the abrasive one. She had a short fuse, a temper, and she rarely thought things through. She was never afraid to be completely and totally herself. She could afford to do things like throwing coffees and storming off- no one expected anything less.

Massie couldn't talk about how she felt right now, in the cafeteria's kitchen, so she didn't. But Alicia knew. She always knew.

And maybe the boys did, too, because Kemp was insightful like that, and Chris shifted closer to Massie, like he suspected it as well. The four of them remained quiet, pretending to survey the lunch options surrounding them.

That silence was broken by eight words: "Alicia, what do you want me to do?"

There was no hesitation when she replied, "I want you to sit with me."

"Go back to your seat," Massie said softly. "I'll bring them over."

Alicia nodded, spinning on her heel. She remembered to fill Claire's water bottle up and she clutched that and her various mayo packets as she headed back to the other girls.

From far away, they looked radiant. Happy. Dylan was animatedly talking to Claire, laughing all the while, and Kristen's textbook was abandoned, the girl leaning forward to participate in the conversation. Claire's cheeks were pink, skin bright with amusement, but when she met Alicia's eyes, there was a question in her irises.

The Latina shrugged, settling in her seat. She handed the bottle over.

"What took you so long?" asked Dylan.

"I saw Massie," Alicia responded, squirting mayo in her tuna. "She couldn't decide what to eat for lunch."

"Typical." The redhead snorted. "So as I was saying- _you've got to be kidding_."

Kristen frowned. "That's not what you were saying."

"Yeah, I'm aware," Dylan snipped, "but that's not what… I can't believe her. Did you know about this?" She nodded towards the kitchen, where Massie was, no doubt, exiting with both Kemp and Chris.

The question was directed towards Alicia and the girl pulled her best poker face. "No," she said. "I saw them in there, but I didn't think-"

"-yeah, of course you didn't think."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Alicia demanded, dropping her fork. She leveled her gaze on Dylan, wishing it had the fire it used to, the power to make her shrink. It seemed Dylan was no longer afraid of her, and she wondered when that happened. "What is your problem with me?"

"You really don't know," Dylan replied, voice flat and cold and hard. "You sit here and you act like… you know what, I don't have to explain myself to you."

"You do!" Alicia exclaimed. "I don't know what you're talking about!"

"You started this, Alicia," Dylan hissed, leaning forward, "when you needed to be taken to Kemp Hurley's house because you vomited everywhere."

Alicia rolled her eyes. "It's not like I _planned_ on getting that belligerent-"

"-you _always_ get that belligerent-"

"Oh, as if you never get that bad!" Alicia shook her head in disbelief. At Skye Hamilton's End of Summer Bash, Dylan got so drunk they spent most of the night holding her hair back in the bathroom. "I heard they spike the drinks at football parties," Alicia whispered fiercely. "If anything happened to me, it was because of that, and I didn't _mean_ to-"

"-oh, who told you that? Kemp?" Dylan looked past her, lips curling in distaste. "If it wasn't for you that night, Kemp and Plovert wouldn't be here. You started something by showing up at his place. _Not friends, he'll lose interest_ , my _ass_."

"It's not my fault Kemp did what he did to you," Alicia snapped. "You didn't even like him that much! You told us that! And whatever happened with you and Chris I had nothing to do with!"

"Sure you didn't," Dylan muttered, brushing a curl out of her face. "That may be so," she said louder, lying, "but that doesn't mean you get to parade them in front of me, _reminding_ me… I would never do that to either of you."

Alicia opened her mouth to retort, but Claire beat her to the punch, "But you'd do that to Massie?"

Dylan looked baffled, and also a little embarrassed, but she turned her bad mood towards the tiny blond, lifting a challenging eyebrow.

Thankful they were on the same page, even if Claire didn't know it, Alicia smoothly interjected, "We know, Dyl."

"Know _what_?" She looked from Claire, to Alicia, to Kristen, but even her best friend remained tight-lipped, shaking her head.

"We know," Alicia said again. " _We know_ and we haven't told her."

Here, Kristen murmured, "You're kind of doing the same thing."

"I'm not," Dylan snapped, "because I'm not shoving it in her face. She doesn't even know."

"That might be worse," Kristen continued in that soft voice of hers, the one she used when she didn't want to start any fights. "Because it's like a secret. Like you're sneaking around."

Dylan turned her head to face Kristen, eyebrows pinched. "You too, Kris? I expected different from you."

"Not _me too_ , Dylan," Kristen retorted, slamming her book closed. "I'm on your side. I will _always_ be on your side, but even you have to see the similarities."

"There are no similarities," snarled Dylan, "and, you know what, I don't want to sit here if I'm going to be ridiculed-"

"-no one is ridiculing you-"

"-and I most certainly do not want to be _here_ if they are, so if you'll excuse me…" Dylan pushed her chair out, gathered her things, and purposely made sure she knocked into both Kemp and Plovert on her way out.

The room seemed to hush around them, over fifty teenagers taking in the way Massie blinked up at the ceiling, arm looped through Kemp's. They looked at how she had Chris holding her lunch for her, saw the way Kemp fought to keep his face neutral, how Chris slammed his tray down at table eighteen.

" _Really_ , Dylan?" Plovert shouted after her.

"Really!" she called back, spinning around. "Talk to me when you decide to be a good friend, Massie!"

Kemp gripped Massie's wrist, narrowing his eyes at the redhead. "She is a good friend!" he insisted loudly, probably despite his best interests. "Do you know what she's _doing_ -"

"-yeah, I know what she's doing!" Dylan cried. "I know what she's doing- for _Alicia_! _Not me_!" She pointed her finger at Massie, who stared at her impassively. "I can't _stand_ you, Massie. You wouldn't even entertain the thought of combining Halloween with my birthday, but for Alicia, you'll do whatever it takes?"

"Your birthday is in September! Why does it matter?" Chris yelled.

"Look, Massie!" Dylan snapped. "Now they're defending _you_! Must be nice!"

Massie remained silent. All she did was lift her hand up to grip Kemp's, which was new, Alicia supposed. Massie had never shown any boy she was friends with besides Josh this much affection before. Never acted like she needed anyone other than herself.

" _Grow up, Dylan_!"

"You first," the girl said brusquely, voice carrying in the silence of the cafeteria. "The world does not revolve around you, Plovert! You're not as great as you think you are!"

"That's a load of shit and you know it, Marvil!" Chris returned loudly. "If the world does not revolve around me, what does it revolve around?"

"I believe that would be the sun," Kristen offered sardonically.

"Not helping," Chris hissed at her. When Dylan didn't have a response, he continued, "Yeah, that's what I thought, Marvil! I _am_ the sun!"

"Go fuck yourself!"

"Don't need to! There are plenty of people who will do that for me!"

Dylan shrieked, slamming the door against the wall as she left the room. A table of girls near Chris tittered at his response, one even going as far as blush when he made eye contact with her.

There was a low whistle from somewhere across the room; Alicia thought it might have been Cam, but when she turned to look, it was Derrick that captured her attention. He clamored up out of his seat, wrestled his jacket on, ignored the questions (his girlfriend?) Sadie asked, and followed hurriedly in Dylan's footsteps.

The door shut loudly again and the room was alive with the sound of voices, some whispers, some shouts, but all saying the same thing.

 _Did Derrick Harrington just run out after Dylan Marvil?_

 _What is Derrick doing chasing after Dylan?_

 _Isn't he dating Sadie Meltzer?_

 _They're not dating, they're just hooking up._

 _No, they're definitely dating..._

"You're the _worst_ , Chris," Kristen snapped, leaping to her feet. She shoved all of her books unceremoniously in her bag, knocked over Dylan's blue Gatorade, which was headed straight towards Alicia's lap- only to be saved by Plovert's quick reflexes and a bunch of napkins.

"Where are you going?" Kemp asked as Kristen's sneakers slapped against the linoleum floor.

"After my best friend!" she called over her shoulder. "What does it look like?"

Massie stared at the door, a frown playing at her lips. "This was a mistake," she murmured.

"Massie, don't-"

"Don't what, Kemp?" she questioned, hugging her arms around her waist. "I shouldn't have shown up at your house, I really shouldn't have. It's been a _week_ and you guys have already torn us apart! This is what happened last time, and I swore I would never let it happen again."

"Massie, _don't_ ," Kemp said again, voice cracking, showing more emotion than he had in the years they'd known him.

Alicia winced at the sound, wishing she could cover her ears.

"You said I couldn't control everyone and I know that," she said to Chris, "but I'm not going to ruin my friendships over you two. I'm sorry, but I'm really not."

"Don't stop being friends with us because of Dylan Marvil," Chris all but pleaded, and Alicia had to turn her face away from his blatant sadness, too. What had they done to these boys? They'd been friends for, what, three days _tops_. "She's overdramatic, and she's overreacting, and she's-"

"-and she's one of my best friends," Massie cut in. "If I continue to this to her, I'm disrespecting her. I'm being a terrible friend if I make make her uncomfortable around us…"

"You literally just said she had to get over it!"

"I'm pretty sure she's friends with Derrick, so isn't she disrespecting you in the same way?"

Massie shook her head. "I don't know that for sure," she said. "That doesn't even matter to me, what matters is the fact that Dylan's unhappy and _I'm_ making her unhappy-"

"So she's allowed to cause scenes and stop us from being friends, but you… you're going to, what, _let_ her continue being friends with D, even if it bothers you the same way our friendship with you guys bothers her?"

"I never said it bothered me."

"You don't have to. It's all over your face."

The brunette alpha sniffed, ridding herself of any incriminating feeling. "Derrick means nothing to me," she told them sternly. "I don't even think about him enough to be upset by it. But if Dylan is upset by this- by _us-_ I can't continue making her upset. She's been one of my closest friends for years."

Alicia couldn't help the words that left her mouth next: "And if I don't agree with this decision, where does that leave you and me?"

"Right where we are," Massie replied. "You're my best friend, Leesh. You can do whatever you want, you know that. You can _all_ do whatever you want. I'm just not going to-"

"Like hell you're not!" Kemp practically shouted. His voice rose, and the rest of the cafeteria quieted (again), and he pivoted and demanded, "Don't you guys have anything _better_ to do?"

There was a stunned silence in response, it sounded like someone actually said _no_ , and then the usual lunchroom chitchat began again, although this time it was half-hearted.

He turned back towards Massie and repeated himself. "Like hell you're not," he snapped. "You can't give up on us if we won't let you."

"We already lost you once," Chris added, a soft whisper that seemed to carry around them like an echo, "we're not going to lose you again."

Massie blinked at him, cheeks reddening. "You told me earlier you didn't like me back then."

"I didn't," he agreed, "but if you end our friendship right now, I may never get the chance to like you in the first place."

"Look," Kemp started, gaze steady on Alicia. She ignored it as best she could, feeling overwhelmed enough as it was. "We'll go apologize to her. God knows she deserves that and more from me."

"And I mean, I should have kept my mouth shut after she shoved me."

"And maybe we should have been honest from the start," Alicia added practically, pressing her hands on the tabletop. "I don't know about you, but I knew walking out of Kemp's house that we were friends. We should've just told them."

Massie sighed, collapsing in her chair. "It was bound to blow up in my face eventually," she admitted.

"I am in no way part of this situation," Claire commented lightly. "It feels great."

"Oh, shut _up_." Alicia tossed a balled up napkin at her, still slightly damp from Dylan's Gatorade.

Kemp followed Massie's lead, taking the seat Kristen vacated on Alicia's other side. His close proximity suddenly made the girl nervous, which was… it was weird. There was just something about the intensity of him, she supposed. The way he fought for Massie, fought for _her_ … how he was willing to swallow his pride and apologize for something he didn't even think was in any way his fault…

Not to mention the way his hand so easily found her knee, squeezing lightly. Alicia felt her breath hitch, felt the heat of his palm so vividly through the material of her pants. It almost seemed as if it was being tattooed to her body, his handprint, and she wriggled ever so slightly away from him. It didn't work.

Instead, she found herself moving closer, invading his personal space. He didn't seem to mind.

"Don't plan the party," Chris was saying when she managed to get her breathing under control. "It's not worth it if Dylan is going to be so upset about it."

"I'd probably do that if I weren't already planning a surprise party for her."

Claire dropped her fork. "When did you decide that?"

"Just this second," Massie replied, picking the avocados out of her panini and chewing. "Dylan thinks we're neglecting her, right, and what better way to prove her wrong than to celebrate her turning sixteen in the biggest and best way possible?"

Kemp nodded thoughtfully. "That could work."

"I don't know if it would be best to invite you," she told him sympathetically. "You know, after what happened at the last birthday party you were invited to."

"Understandable," he said.

"Theme?" Alicia asked, ignoring the twinge of disappointment in her stomach.

Massie tapped her nails against the tabletop. "Prelude to Halloween, maybe?" she suggested. "Dylan's birthday is in seven days, so I'm thinking of having the party the last weekend of September, which is a perfect segue into Halloween…"

"If the actual Halloween party all goes to hell for Ripple's birthday, that's not such a bad idea," Claire mused. "I like it."

"I can still beat up Ripple if you want," Chris offered. "That way you get the Halloween party you deserve and Ripple just, like… disappears."

She smiled, amused at the suggestion, but shook her head. "What I really need from you is for you to apologize to Dylan, so maybe one of you can attend, and then we need to create invites, and send them to the right people, and figure out how to keep Dylan in the dark."

"I can do the invites," Claire said.

"I have an underground directory of everyone at this school," Alicia supplied.

"I can threaten silence with my fists," Kemp suggested.

Massie snorted. "No, you're already going on a date with Ripple to keep her quiet. I don't need any more from you."

" _You told her_?"

"You're going on a _date_?" Alicia blurted, turning her head so quickly her hair slapped Kemp in the face. "With _Ripple Baxter_?"

"It's nothing," Kemp breathed in her ear. "Just extra security. I can cancel if you'd like."

 _Yes, do it_.

"What are you even going to do with her?"

He shrugged. "Probably get froyo. Girls like that, right?"

"Everyone likes froyo, dude," Chris cut in. "That's not just a girl thing. Don't you like ice cream?"

"Obviously," said Kemp, "or else I wouldn't have suggested we get some."

"That sounds nice," Alicia forced herself to say. "Thank you."

He smiled at her, a special sort of thing just for her. "Anything for my favorite girl," he answered. "I'll take you to get froyo some time, too, Rivera."

"Oh," she whispered, ducking her head so her long hair covered her burning cheeks. "I'd like that."

Kemp squeezed her knee again.


	4. Shadows

_There's something so rare in your veins  
_ _Not a single thing I would change  
_ _And, oh, if you only knew how I see you  
_ _Would you come alive again, alive again?  
_ \- "Shadows," Sabrina Carpenter

.

Last year, the Tomahawks made it to the State Championship for the first time in over forty years. This little private school soccer team managed to grow an impressive following and packed the stands at the away field. The Pretty Committee had had to use some of their older intimidation tactics to force a couple of overexcited girls out of their seats so they could hide in the shadows.

They knew enough about soccer to understand the game, had dated some of those boys on the field long enough to _get_ it, and they all, at some point, could be heard gasping and cheering, secretly rooting for a certain group of five.

It had been one of those games they showed in teen dramas on television: Josh had left a spot wide open, allowing a shot that Derrick had failed to save; Cam had been benched with a swollen ankle; Derrick had been slower than usual and probably had broken his wrist (he did, they found out later, in three places); and Kemp and Plovert had been reprimanded on four separate occasions for fighting. Two of which had been started by Greyson Academy, but the referees looked the other way; Greyson was slated as the team to win.

With a minute left on the clock, Greyson in possession, Greyson _about to win_ , the ball flew through the air. There was hush throughout the field, an excited buzzing from the Greyson stands—and Derrick Harrington, with a broken wrist, a bloodied knee, and what looked like a bruised nose, made the ultimate save.

There had been silence, and then this overwhelming _roar_ of the crowd, as the soccer ball soared off his shoulder and bounced back onto the field. Massie had gripped Kristen's hand so tightly her skin turned white. Alicia had shrieked, then covered her mouth. Dylan had thrown her arms around Claire and the two of them sat there, hugging as if they'd been the ones to win the thing.

(In fact, it had been Josh, making up for that point he lost them.)

And now Dylan was staring at a _blown-up poster_ of Derrick, those very ten seconds _immortalized_ on the BOCD wall.

Derrick's intensity was frightening, to say the least, but girls no doubt peed themselves over this. His face was dirty, sweaty, his hair sticking up as if he'd just run his fingers through it. There was this unadulterated determination in his stance, in the grit of his teeth, in the set of his brow. His broad shoulders filled out his burgundy jersey and of the half-sleeve of ink on his muscled forearm, all that could be seen was the intricate, colored-in crown nestled underneath his inner elbow. He looked like a winner, right there, _looked_ like the varsity soccer captain he was unanimously named after they beat Greyson 5-4.

And Dylan… well, Dylan—

"Will you stop fucking _laughing_?"

Snorting around a giggle, Dylan shook her head, groping through her bag for her cellphone. "What"—she hiccuped—" _is_ this? Is this real? I mean, of course it's real, but what the fu—oh. My. _God_."

"Everyone has one," Derrick said irritably, watching her. "Around the corner is one of Josh winning the game, and by the Art room is one of Cam tying it, and then there's a pretty good action shot of—"

"— _there's more_!" Dylan chortled, taking a picture for SnapChat. "I can't… oh my god."

"You've never seen these?" he demanded. "They've been up since we came back."

Dylan didn't answer, captioning the picture _I didn't know Troy Bolton went to this school_ and adding it to her already too-long SnapStory.

"I can _not_ ," Dylan breathed around a gasp. "Wow. I really needed that. Thanks, Derrick."

He frowned, arms crossed over his chest. "Are you done?"

She paused, considering this question, and finally nodded. "I think so."

"Would you like to tell me if you're alright then?" he questioned, shuffling closer to her.

Dylan sniffed, taking in the subtle notes of his cologne— _Obsessed_ by Calvin Klein, she thought—and shouldered her bag once more. "I'm fine," told him shortly, tossing her hair back. "Thank you for the concern, but you can g—"

"Don't pull that shit with me," Derrick snapped, grabbing her elbow before she could walk away from him. "You don't just race out of a cafeteria because you're _fine_." He scoffed.

"I don't need your help, or your concern, or anything, Derrick," she insisted. "Go back to your little friends, they probably need you more than I do—"

"Chris and Kemp can handle themselves," he interrupted, "and they're actually fine, unlike you. They looked pretty cozy where they were."

Dylan ignored the bitterness staining his words and tried to wiggle her way out of his grasp, but Derrick had always been stronger than her. She debated pinching him but decided against it when he continued, "I'm worried about you, Dylan. This is the second time you've done this this week."

"They invited _Kemp_ to sit with us!" she spat. "You've got eyes. If you can see me acting out, you can see that. What do you expect I do? Deal with it quietly? I'm not going to."

"I'm not telling you to, but you shouldn't isolate yourself from your friends because you're upset—"

" _My friends_?" she echoed dubiously. "Who? Alicia and Massie? They _lied_! They said they weren't friends with them, but they _are_ , and they're sitting at _our_ table, and _taunting_ me as if I… as if I don't have any reason to hate them!"

"Dylan…"

"And they've roped Claire into it, too! Don't think I haven't heard these rumors! What did Claire do to get involved in this? If anything, I thought she was _my_ friend, but I guess she'll always go running back to Massie whenever she has need of her!"

" _Dylan_."

" _And_ Massie hasn't had need of any of us in months!" Dylan finally pulled her arm away from him, stumbling in her thin heels as she wretched herself free. "She went on vacation with Alicia, has exclusive sleepovers with Alicia, fucking leaves the _party_ with Alicia—"

"—to be fair, Alicia was in a pretty bad place—"

"—and I would have helped!" Dylan shouted. "I know I made it seem like I wouldn't, but I _would have helped_! She's my friend, too, and they left us there, and went to Kemp's, and came back… they came back and I don't even know them anymore!"

Derrick's hand reached up to wipe at the tears Dylan hadn't realized she'd been shedding and she swatted at him. "It was pretty gross," he said, thumb rubbing against her cheek. "Alicia, like, totally threw up all over Kemp and he definitely isn't letting her know that."

Dylan blinked, his face blurry in front of her.

"You should probably just talk to them," he suggested. "This sounds like it's more than just Kemp and Plovert you're mad about."

"Kemp—"

"I know," Derrick said. "I've told you time and time again: he's an asshole. He never deserved you to begin with."

"You're just saying that."

"Nah." He smiled, dimpling, and if Dylan hadn't known him since they were in diapers, she might have swooned, or fainted, or whatever it was his little fan club did when he was around. "I don't lie, Marv."

She rolled her eyes. "You know I hate that."

"You know I hate that you're still crying over Kemp."

"He's your best friend," Dylan pointed out.

"So? I can still acknowledge that he's kind of the worst," Derrick rebutted. "He's gotten better, though. That school-mandated Anger Management course really… settled him down."

Dylan quirked a brow. "He punched Jaxon Carmichael for no apparent reason last week."

"Oh." Derrick's expression changed then, going from solicitous and supportive to closed-off and defensive. "He deserved that."

"What'd he do?"

Derrick shrugged, smiling again. "Nothing in particular," he lied easily. "You know how Dune and Jax are, though. They need to be put in their place."

"Does the football team have these posters too?" she asked. "They went to State."

"If they do, I'll personally rip them down myself," Derrick all but snarled. "I hate them."

"The feeling is probably mutual," Dylan said thoughtfully, remembering all the times the football and soccer teams tried to one-up and destroy each other. It reminded her of the Pretty Committee's middle school days, when they ruined as many people as they possibly could in the name of popularity. They didn't seem to need to do that much anymore.

The blond boy sighed and cupped Dylan's face in his hands, eying her carefully. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"I guess," she murmured, squinting at him. It felt like he was keeping something from her, but despite their close friendship she didn't actually know everything about him.

He said something else, but the redhead was too focused on what her friends had told her earlier.

 _We know_ , Alicia said, _we know and we haven't told her._

 _You're kind of doing the same thing_ , said Kristen.

That had to mean something, right? Dylan had never stopped being friends with Derrick, even after his gigantic split with Massie. Their siblings just wouldn't allow it; the Marvils and Harringtons had been linked since before Massie and the Blocks had ever been in the picture, back when her father was still around. It'd been _years_ since the falling out of the Pretty Committee and the soccer boys and Dylan's friends still hadn't told Massie, whether it be for Gossip Points or out of spite, that she was still hanging around Derrick.

Whatever was going on with them, they still had her back, and here she was, complaining and crying and acting a fool over Kemp Hurley (and partially Chris Plovert). But it wasn't the same! Was it? Dylan had the foresight to keep her relationship with Derrick under wraps—they both did, thank god—and Massie and Alicia were, like, four days into a new friendship with Kemp and Plovert but were already inviting them to the lunch table and letting them buy their coffees and getting… getting _kissed on the nose_ —

Kristen and Claire and Alicia were her friends. That much was certain. Was Massie?

Was the Pretty Committee even a _thing_ anymore? It felt like the only one she truly, one hundred percent knew was Kristen. Claire was a close second. Years ago she had known Massie like the back of her hand; with one look she'd be able to figure out what the brunette was going to say or do, how she would act in certain situations. She knew what she was thinking. And now… now she couldn't wrap her head around why she'd let Kemp and Chris back into their lives.

She shook her head, getting herself upset again, and tuned back into whatever Derrick was saying.

"You'll talk to them?"

"Sure," she said immediately, but she wasn't exactly sure if she meant it. "Will you show me these other posters?"

"It would be my pleasure." Derrick swept down into a mock-bow and pulled Dylan down the hall. "On your left, you will see Josh, who quite honestly does not get the credit he deserves…"

.

 **ripplebax** (1 hr)  
 _I want to tattoo his face to my asscheek so I can say I sit on it all the time  
_ (1 picture attachment)  
13 comments / 76 retweets / 203 likes

 **kgreg  
** replying to **_ripplebax  
_** _wow you need to relax  
_ 117 retweets / 199 likes

 **derrickharrington  
** replying to **_ripplebax  
_** _i'm honored  
_ 344 retweets / 306 likes

 **jotz  
** replying to **_ripplebax  
_** _hey_ ** _cfish_** _she's somehow worse than you  
_ 274 retweets / 89 likes

 **cfish  
** replying to **_jotz_** _and_ ** _ripplebax  
_** _yo step back bitch_ ** _derrickharrington_** _is mine, only i'm allowed to sit on his face  
_ 499 retweets / 506 likes

 **derrickharrington  
** replying to **_cfish, jotz_** _and_ ** _ripplebax  
_** _;* love u babe  
_ 499 retweets / 515 likes

.

 ** _BOCDSecrets_** posted a new video  
 _looks like someone's pretty cozy with our favorite goalie ;)_ ** _dylmarvil derrickharrington  
_** view all 410 comments  
 **homersaylene** uhhhh _s_meltzer  
_ **mcambridge** why's _dylmarvil_ throwing coffee at _kemphurley_ if she's doing this?  
 **kemphurley** someone get me a caramel macchiato PRONTO

.

 ** _Massie Block_** : i want you to know i've spent the past two days feeling guilty about this  
 ** _Massie Block_** : i almost stopped being friends with both of them for you  
 ** _Massie Block_** : but seriously? you have the audacity to flip out on me and leesh but you turn around and do the same thing? the world does not revolve around you even though you want it to

.

Loud and angry, the words screamed back at her: _funny, you seem to think the world revolves around you._

Massie slapped her phone against the tabletop, hardly caring if the screen cracked. Around her, the other students in her Economics class chattered excitedly and moved around, but she remained still, glaring down at the conversation she was having with Dylan.

Okay, so, _yeah_ , she had started it, and _yes_ , her initial texts were mean and downright accusatory, and _sure_ , Dylan was only defending herself, but…

She had no right. _No right_.

Another text: _get off ur high horse already Massie. you can't stand that someone thought for themselves for once. you can't stand that YOURE not the one getting his attention._

Immediately after: _admit it already._

How dare she? Massie hadn't thought about Derrick _once_ since—since—alright, since that time last year when he wore those gray sweatpants to school, but sue her, alright? This was _not_ about him! It was about Dylan's superiority complex, her feelings, and the fact that she turned around and did _the same thing_!

Furious fingers responded back: _admit what?_

Not even two seconds later: _you know._

"Know _what_?" Massie snapped, exiting out of that thread to the one she had with Alicia and Claire. "What do I know? I know that I am going to…" But she trailed off, sending a screenshot of the conversation to her other friends—not Kristen, because she wasn't really sure what Kristen would do or say—followed by a series of question marks.

 _Do you know what she's talking about_ , she asked, and a brown hand plucked the phone out of her grip.

"Ex- _cuse_ me—"

The words died on her tongue as she looked over, ready to lash out, and met the amused gaze of Josh Hotz.

"That's mine," she said instead, flatly, without life. "I know you probably just got confused since ours are so similar, but…" The only thing similar about their phones was the sticky Briarwood Octavian Country Day pocket on the back and as Massie tried to snatch hers back, she could see her smiling on the front of Student ID card.

"Ha ha ha," Josh replied. "You've been ignoring me for the past ten minutes. Forgive me for wanting to see what was so much more interesting than I am."

Massie scoffed, pulling her iPhone away from him. "You were planning on reading my personal messages?"

Josh shrugged in the seat beside her, mussing his hair up and twisting the New York Yankees hat around his head. "I debated it."

She scrutinized him, taking in the easy twist of his grin, the sparkle in his eye, and the casual yet oddly attractive way in which he sat. "What are you doing here? You sit in the back."

"Keeping tabs on me, I see."

"No," she snapped, lifting her nose, "but I do have _eyes_."

"And what pretty ones they are," Josh returned. At her exasperated look, he added, "Fish cut class to do God knows what with God knows who and I didn't want to be alone."

Massie blinked, twisted in her seat, and said, "I see four other boys from the soccer team back there. And that… _thing_ you dated last year is three rows up."

"That 'thing' has a name, and it's Alexandra Reagan, and I _didn't_ date her, thank you very much."

"So you didn't have sex with her at Dune's football afterparty?"

"I didn't say I didn't have sex with her," Josh replied shamelessly. "I said I didn't date her."

The brunette wrinkled her nose. "Gross."

He shrugged. "Like you haven't done some dirty things, Massalynn."

"Just because my middle name is Lynn doesn't mean you can merge my names together," she snapped, an argument she'd been having with him for the longest time. "And I have not done anything... _dirty_ "- she wrinkled her nose- "thanks. Even if I did, I wouldn't be discussing those things with you."

"You used to discuss those things with me," he replied with a tiny frown.

Massie ignored it. "Yes, once upon a time," she agreed. "Not anymore."

"We could—"

"We _can't_ ," she stressed, flipping open her Economics book. "I will not."

"But you will with Kemp and Plovert?"

There was this hurt in his voice that sent a shiver down her spine. Massie coughed to cover it up, tucked her hair behind her ear, and started jotting down the homework assignment on the board.

Josh scooted his chair closer to her. "You'll pick _them_ over _me_?" he whispered. She swallowed. "Over me," he said again. "Massie, you weren't good enough friends with them to begin with."

"Now you know how it feels," she hissed, hand spasming, pen scribbling along the page. "You picked them over me. You were my _best_ friend—"

"—Alicia is your best friend—"

" _No_ , Josh. _You_ were my best friend." She lifted her eyes, meeting his earnest stare—honest, and open, and a tiny bit sad—with her own angry one. That seemed to be the theme these past two days. "I told _you_ more than I told _her_. You knew about Chris Abeley, and you knew how I felt about Derrick, and you knew when I was sad, or when I was mad, and—" Her voice cracked. "And you turned around and _picked him_."

"Massie…"

"Don't touch me."

"Mass—"

"You didn't even help me when I brought Alicia to Kemp's," she muttered. "You ignored me!"

Josh looked like he was going to sigh, but kept from doing so. He rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands. "I didn't ignore you," he replied, "I just couldn't—"

"Save it," she interrupted, blinking to rid herself of the stinging behind her eyes. She would not cry. She would _not_. "I don't want to hear your excuses, Josh. I already know what you're going to say."

"You don't," he snapped, and it was the meanest she'd ever hear him sound (towards her, at least). "You don't know how _hard_ it was for me. I haven't talked to you in years and then there you were, and you were interacting with Kemp like you'd been friends forever, and I get that you were drunk and upset and Alicia was vomiting, but… you didn't even _look_ at me, Mass. I didn't know what to say. What to do." He flicked his gaze to the front of them, paying attention to something Andy Walden was saying in an effort to avoid her eyes. "I got up at the fucking crack of dawn to drive with Derrick to visit Sammi just so I could avoid you."

" _Avoid me_?"

He chuckled, sliding farther down his chair. "No one ever mentions how friendships can break you the same way romantic relationships can," he muttered, staring up at the ceiling. "It's not like I could've turned around and told Derrick to go fuck himself."

"You could have," she said lowly.

Josh shook his head. Ahead of them, their teacher droned on about consumerism and surpluses. "I'd have no friends," he said softly. "This was before Briarwood collapsed." It was an unnecessary reminder, and it made Massie's stomach drop to her feet.

Massie couldn't help the bitterness in her response. "Derrick used to mock me for trying to control my friends, and yet…"

The boy to her left huffed out a laugh.

"Have they been friends this whole time?"

Josh nodded just once, a tense jerk of the head.

"So I could have… we could have..." Massie inhaled sharply and in the smallest of voices murmured the truth, something she'd only ever done in his presence. "I want to go home."

She thought about Bean and Inez, and of doggie cuddles and her favorite tea. She thought of how a friendship with Josh could have been possible this whole time, how he seemed like a coward for not trying even though he _knew_ Derrick was friends with Dylan, had probably _hung out_ with Dylan…

She felt Josh's hand on hers and pulled it away before the warmth could settle. Before she could get caught up in it.

"You were my _best_ friend," she repeated, suddenly stuffy.

"You were mine."

Her phone beeped with promise of a new text message, saving her from any ensuing awkwardness. Massie sighed at the image on her lock screen, a drunken mirror picture they'd taken in Vader's bathroom, all five of them smushed together. They all looked amazing, of course, and most of Massie's face was hidden behind her phone, which didn't matter much at all.

She'd posted this on Instagram with some nonsensical caption immediately after she took it and she thanked every deity she knew for blessing that one room with excellent lighting and her friends with beautiful skin. It had gotten over a thousand likes.

(The caption was actually just the emoji of girls holding hands five times in a row.)

Looking at it now was just a sour reminder that they weren't the same. That they hadn't been the same for a while, apparently. That even after all this time they were still keeping secrets from each other.

Claire answered: _r u fighting over derrington lol_

Alicia merely sent the eye roll emoji.

 _Unhelpful_ , Massie sent back, and then she opened Dylan's latest text with just a hint of trepidation.

She was unable to read it, though, because—once again—Josh took her phone. She lunged for it, but he merely held it over her head, screen tilted so he could look at it.

"Stop!" she said loudly. "Don't read my messages!"

"She doesn't get to say shit like this to you," Josh snapped back.

"Do _not_ respond back!" Massie shot up, trying to get his fingers off her screen. "You don't get to say things like that! You don't get to—"

Josh snorted derisively, pressing his palm against her forehead, keeping her back. "What are you gonna do? You gonna _let_ her talk to you like this? Massie, you don't—"

"You don't get to tell me what I _don't_ "—she brought her fingers up to make air quotes and then debated kneeing him in the chin—"we're _not_ friends. Get your hand off my face! This does not concern you!"

"Ah, but it concerns the rest of us?" a voice drawled from the front of the room.

Massie froze, suddenly remembering where she was, feeling her face heat up with embarrassment. Josh, on the other hand, looked calm, cool, and collected, slipping her phone in the back pocket of her jeans and crossing his arms behind his head.

"I've let you disrupt my class enough for one day, I think," their teacher continued, eyes narrowed. "Out. Detention this afternoon for both of you."

Somewhere behind them, Massie thought she heard Olivia Ryan's nasty, ditzy giggle. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the girl's blond head ducking over to whisper something to Strawberry McAdams, who thankfully decided three years ago to get her hair done professionally, and Kori Gedman, who unfortunately looked the same. The three girls shot Massie a withering look, but the brunette merely swept her books into her bag and glided gracefully out of the room.

Josh, on the other hand, dawdled, taking his sweet time. A B-lister audibly sighed as he passed her; he purposefully ran his finger along her desk as if he knew the affect he had on the girls at BOCD.

" _Today_ , Mister Hotz."

"My sincerest apologies," Josh declared grandly, winking at Krista Bassett in the front row. Her face turned beet red.

Massie rolled her eyes at his shenanigans, speed-walking down the hall as soon she was out of the room. Technically she should be going to the Main Office to grab her detention slip, but she made a beeline for her locker instead, ignoring Josh's shouts.

As if she would wait for him. (Ex) Best friends or not, he had gotten her in trouble! Gotten her kicked out of class! If he had just left her alone…

She couldn't finish that thought, though. She'd still be in this mess even if he had left her alone. Maybe she'd still be in class, but her life would still be spiraling out around her. She'd still have to plan Ripple's birthday party, forfeiting Halloween. She'd still have to make it up to Dylan, who was being _so mean_ even though Massie was a hundred percent sure she wasn't at fault here. She'd still have to deal with the rumors that were now circulating about her and her friends, all because of a bunch of boys.

But they weren't just _any_ boys, were they?

Arriving at her locker, Massie twisted the combination into the lock and deposited her books inside. Her tiny mirror reflected her face (eyeliner wings so sharp they could cut something, highlight making her look like a glazed donut) and while she looked perfect, she felt terrible, and her eyes were not filled with their usual mischief and power. They were dull. Kind of sad. She felt like that inside, too.

She whipped her phone out of her pocket and checked her messages even though her gut told her not to.

 ** _Dylan Marvil_** : u said u wouldn't be such a controlling bitch anymore but newsflash u still are  
 ** _Dylan Marvil_** : me kris and claire don't even really like you all that much anyways

"Oh," said Massie. Her fingers shook.

"I tried to delete it," came Josh's voice, "but then we got in trouble. If it means anything, I think she's lying."

Massie kept staring at the texts until the words blurred together. She wasn't sure if it was because she hadn't blinked or because she was going to cry. "I told you not to read my messages."

"I had to make sure she didn't—" He shook his head. "I was just trying to protect you."

"You don't get to protect me, Josh! You gave up that right when you _abandoned_ me."

" _Abandoned_ ," he squawked. "Abandoned! I've been protecting you this entire time! We might not have talked but we were always friends."

Massie sniffed. "That's a bunch of bullshit and you know it."

"It is not!" Josh's voice rose and his words echoed down the hall. "Massie, we can go back to the way it was. Derrick has no ground to stand on anymore. He can't tell me who I can and can't hang out with."

"He couldn't tell you that two years ago either! The Josh I knew would never have let Derrick tell him what to do," snapped Massie, tossing her hair back. "You're spineless. Why would you… _how_ could you…"

"Your friends did the same thing." Josh seemed to have ignored the insult she had throw his way, shuffling around and turning her body to face him. "Do you think Alicia wanted to stop talking to Kemp? Do you think Cam found it easy to stop hanging out Kristen? We did it because we thought it would be best. Because we thought it was the right thing."

"But it _wasn't_ ," Massie said. Her voice cracked.

"Hey." Josh's thumb darted out to collect the moisture at her lashes. "Don't cry over this." The unspoken _don't cry over me_ settled between them; Massie didn't know how to tell him how many times she already had. "We were toxic towards the end. All of us."

The girl wanted to stomp her foot and cause a scene. She wanted to scream, she wanted to yell, not futilely fight back tears. But she couldn't do anything of that, not here, not anywhere. Instead she just pressed her palms against Josh's chest and pushed, trying to force him away from her.

He didn't move.

"I'm not crying over… over you, or this, or even our old friendships. I don't _care_." A lie and they both knew it. "I'm not even crying! I just—I got something in my eye, alright? And even if I _were_ crying it wouldn't be because of you. It would be because my friends apparently hate me, and I'm so _angry,_ and I didn't realize how much of a problem being _fucking_ nice to Kemp and Plovert would be, so I'm just going to end that reeeeeal quick." She pushed at him again; this time it was more of a shove, but Josh kept his feet planted firmly. "And on top of that, I want you to _go. Away._ "

"No," Josh said, grabbing her wrists and pulling her into him for a hug. "I'm not going anywhere. Not again."

Massie gritted her teeth and struggled for a moment or two, slapping at his back, his shoulders. When he wouldn't give up, she did. Her body went limp. Josh squeezed her tighter, and her arms came around him, and she buried her face in his collarbone. One of his hands came up to stroke her hair. They spent the remainder of their class period in that very position, both of them pretending that Massie hadn't spent fifteen minutes crying into his shirt.

And because they were Massie and Josh, and they could hardly ever deny the other anything, when that bell rang, signaling the end of seventh period and the start of eighth, they were somehow friends again.

.

 ** _BOCDSecrets_** posted a new picture  
 _looks like_ ** _jotz_** _and_ ** _mmmblock_** _wanted to get in on the action too. are you crying, M?  
_ view all 286 comments  
 **aleesharivera** _take this down immediately or ill sue  
_ **shelbwexler** _omg **proth cookiecrisp**_ ** _  
_** **cfish** _im about to block this page wtf why am i following this shit_

.

 ** _Derrick Harrington_** : im also going to stab u in the eye  
 ** _Josh Hotz_** : fuck off man

.

 ** _Chris Plovert_** : hey welcome to the club  
 ** _Chris Plovert_** : do you wanna be president or secretary of "derricks gonna stab me in the eye"  
 _ **Chris Plovert**_ : DGSM for short  
 ** _Josh Hotz_** : secretary  
 ** _Josh Hotz_** : im really good at note taking

* * *

 **a/n** : fyi Ripple posted a picture of Derrick's poster on Twitter because she's extra AF. like me.


	5. Written in the Stars

**a/n** : i am so proud of me for being able to update this much! i know that it doesn't seem like a lot but if you remember how i used to be as an updater... this is excellent for me. /applause/

anyway, here's some stuff that i believe y'all were looking forward to. it's not much but it's something! the ball really gets rolling sometime soon, probably in the next 1-2 chapters, so keep your eyes peeled!

and if you're interested, mo (if dreams could come alive) and i made an entire pinterest for this story. there are secret boards for relationships that will be revealed as the pairings are unveiled but for now enjoy a peek into characters and friendships! The username is **in_perpetuum**! add this to the end of the pinterest url: **/in_perpetuum/** \- check it out ;)

* * *

 _We're right here and we're gonna write the story  
_ _Written in the stars like grafitti, can't ignore it  
_ _Light years and they'll see the comets falling  
_ _This is the moment where it all began  
_ \- "Written in the Stars," The Girl and the Dreamcatcher

.

Massie snapped the hair elastic around her wrist over and over again in an attempt to keep her cool. It did nothing but make the skin around her charm bracelet raw and red. When she looked back up, she was still in the same room with the same people and Mrs. Nish glaring her beady little eyes at them.

"Your detention is not timed," the older woman said sternly. "You will stay here as long as it takes to make this cafeteria _shine_." She regarded them over the top of her glasses, wrapping a hand around her bicep. "The janitorial staff has been given the night off while you learn your lesson."

"I don't need to learn any lessons," blurted Massie. "This is so unfair, Nish. I didn't _do_ anything."

"I bet she doesn't even know how to clean," Derrick muttered snidely, crossing his arms over his chest. Out of the corner of her eye, Massie saw him leaning up against the wall by the double doors leading to the kitchen. She wanted to strangle him.

Josh shot him a look, punching him in the shoulder.

"I heard that, Mr. Harrington," Mrs. Nish called, "and while that may be the case, Massie, you have a punishment you need to carry out."

" _Josh_ needs to carry it out!" she insisted, widening her eyes into that look that always got her out of trouble with adults. "I really didn't do anything. _I_ was minding my own business before Josh bothered me in class and then he _stole_ my phone and read my messages! He invaded my privacy and I'm supposed to be _punished_ for it?"

There was a snort behind her, but she wasn't sure who it was.

Mrs. Nish always had a soft spot for Massie- she wasn't sure why- but the girl was trying to appeal to that side of the teacher. Unfortunately today was not Massie's day. "According to the report you still had your phone out even though you know school policy."

"Having my phone out does not warrant a cafeteria-cleaning detention," she shot back. "The OCD handbook says I would only be written up for a tiny infraction like this."

"I am not the one who handed out your detention, Massie," Mrs. Nish replied and though her tone of voice was kind, it was not the response the younger girl had been looking for. "I'm just following orders. You, Mr. Hotz, and Mr. Harrington are to clean this cafeteria and if this place is not spotless, you will do it again and again until it is."

There was a pregnant pause as Massie considered this, considered being stuck at school for hours, _cleaning_ , because of something she hadn't even done…

"And because the three of you caused scenes in class due to phone use, I will be confiscating those as well." Mrs. Nish held out a box eerily similar to the one Principal Burns used during assemblies. "You'll get them back at the end of the night."

"Which could be _whenever_ ," Massie stated, horrified, the words heavy on her tongue. She gripped her sparkly purple phone case tightly in her fist.

"That is correct."

"Ehmagawd." Massie felt faint. There was a ringing in her ears, a dryness in the back of her throat. She was about to be stuck in school. For hours. With _these_ people. She could _die_ here.

Derrick shuffled past her, close enough that Massie could smell the crispness of his cologne. He mocked her _ehmagawd_ as he dropped his phone, a battered-looking thing, in the container in front of them. He met her gaze briefly and she was startled by how brown his eyes looked in the caf's artificial lighting. She hated that she was the first to look away, but she couldn't handle how the sparkle in his eye teased her.

She heard Josh say something behind her, something _to_ her, but she ignored that, marching forward to give up her phone as well. She couldn't believe hers was going to mingle with Derr _ick's_ for god knows how long. It was disgusting just looking at it. She pressed her index finger to the screen, wishing it luck.

"Hey," greeted Josh, his presence just as soft as his voice. "It'll be fine. This will be over soon."

Massie shook the hand off her shoulder and moved as far away from him as possible. She did not need this right now. "Don't touch me."

"Look, I'm sorry I got us detention," he continued, following her as she attempted to scurry away. "Are you really _that_ mad at me?"

"I'm not mad at you," Massie snapped. "I can't be mad at someone I don't care for."

Josh stopped short, sighing loudly and exasperatedly. "Massie, I won't do this with you."

"Great," she said cheerfully, slapping a wet towel on table 14, where the lacrosse kids sat. She halfheartedly scrubbed at a mysterious stain, trying to avoid thinking about where it came from.

"That's not what I meant," Josh said, grabbing her wrist.

Massie stared at his fingers, dark against her skin, and tried to pull out of his grip. He allowed it, and Massie's hand, towel and all, fell against the denim of her jeans. She could feel the dampness of the chemicals on her thigh.

"What I meant," he started, not caring that Massie was glaring or that Derrick was staring or that Mrs. Nish was literally _right there_ , listening to everything they said, "was I will not let you try to weasel your way out of this like you do everything else. You told me we were friends not even two hours ago."

"I did _not_ -"

"You apologized for staining my shirt and I said that's what friends are for, right, and you said, _and I quote_ , yeah, they are."

"Yeah, well, I lied," Massie snapped back.

"You don't say things you don't mean."

"I say plenty of things I don't mean."

"Not to me."

"You don't know me anymore. You don't know what I will and will not say to you."

"Yeah?" Josh challenged, pressing his lips together. "If that's the case, what kind of things do you say to Chris and Kemp, then?"

Massie tossed her hair over her shoulder. "A bunch of things," she answered. "They know about my Dylan problems and my Landon problems and-"

"Landon?" Josh cut in, eyes flashing. "Landon _Crane_?"

"Yep," the tiny girl replied, suddenly giddy with the reality of Josh getting angry over something. He rarely let himself lose his cool. "I wouldn't call them problems, though, more like… I was just on the fence about him."

Josh breathed deeply and closed his eyes, shoving his hands- which were now balled up into fists- into his pockets. "You told them," he said flatly. "You've hung out with them, what, two times and they already…" He faltered and Massie relished in the way his voice broke ( _no, she didn't, not at all, why was she doing this?_ ) as he backtracked, trying to save face. "It took me months to earn your trust and Kemp Hurley gets it in fucking two hours?"

It wasn't very often Massie felt guilty about something, but this week she was overloaded with the feeling. She wanted to step closer to him, wrap her arms around him, hug him, tell him she didn't mean it, this wasn't what she wanted…

But her pride insisted and so she _did_ step closer to him, but only to hiss, "Well, Kemp didn't break my heart, did he?"

She shouldered past him before he had a chance to respond, but she heard his sharp intake of breath, felt herself take two gigantic leaps backwards- metaphorically, of course; she was in no way turning around- and tossed her washcloth in the bucket at Derrick's feet.

He seemed rooted to the spot, too, and the heat of his gaze burned her back. She wondered what he was thinking about, if he actually hated her, and then shook herself resolutely of that thought process.

 _Didn't matter, didn't matter, didn't matter_.

"Where do you think you're going, Miss Block?" Mrs. Nish called after her. She had her stern, authoritative voice back on, but the woman was such a pushover it was easy to ignore. "You have a detention to finish!"

"And your phone is still here." That was Derrick. She could recognize that voice anywhere, even when she was angrily stomping away, the slapping of her feet echoing in her ears.

"I don't care about this stupid detention," Massie snapped back. "Reschedule mine, suspend me, expel me- I don't care. And I can easily buy a new phone, thanks." She slammed her palms against the double doors, shoving them open with as much strength as she could muster, ignoring the sting.

The hall was creepily silent; there were no shouts of laughter or whispered giggles, no gossip, or couples kissing, or the echo of sneakers or heels against the floor. The cacophony of sounds that made up BOCD was missing and the school suddenly felt like Massie did: empty, sad, and lifeless.

She could still hear Mrs. Nish and Josh and Derrick, their voices muffled. Mrs. Nish wouldn't come after her, even if she was the teacher in charge of them, and if Josh knew any better he would stay put as well.

This gave Massie some time to think about what a disaster her life was becoming. She wished that post hadn't gone up on BOCDSecrets. She needed time to process everything that happened and this… anonymous blogger was totally cramping her style.

She hardly had time to contemplate the bomb of Derrick and Dylan's friendship before a video of him, like, _consoling_ \- like she needed that in the first place, _as if_ \- her surfaced. And then Massie herself had one public moment of weakness- _one_ in _three years_ \- and that was put up on the Internet for everyone to see! What would all the girls who wanted to be her think? What would all the girls who wanted to destroy her think?

God. She hadn't felt this mixed up in anything since… since the last time the Pretty Committee hung out with these boys.

There were so many signs telling her befriending Chris and Kemp had been a bad idea. She should just ignore their dumb puppy-dog looks and end whatever this was. It was the only logical solution, the only way she could stay sane and avoid drama, and yet…

Massie couldn't seem to convince herself to do it.

What did that say about her?

She sighed, pressing her hands to her eyes, hardly caring if she messed up her makeup. Every part of her _ached_. She had a detention to finish up- getting expelled again would sooo not fly with her parents- and two parties to plan and she had to talk to Dylan and she had a mountain of homework to do and the Student Council Event Committee was two seconds into planning the Harvest Carnival and-

"Massie, is that you?"

The sound of Kristen's voice from down the hall gave Massie pause. She took one last deep, cleansing breath and straightened her back, imagining all of her negative feelings sliding down her spine and exiting her body in one fell swoop.

One last inhale, a casual pinch of her cheeks, and Massie was ready to fake nonchalance. "Yeah, Kristen, hi!" She winced at her over-the-top cheerfulness. "What are you doing here?" she asked quickly.

The leggy blonde sauntered over to her, adjusting the strap on her backpack. "Tutor Center," she replied with an eye roll. "Mom wants me to reapply. Then I have to meet up with my coach to hand in my updated drug test… what are _you_ doing here?"

Massie smiled sheepishly. "I have detention."

"Detention?"

"I, quote, made a scene in class, end quote," said the brunette. "But, like, it wasn't me at all? It was Josh, who stole my phone and read my messages and honestly was asking for-"

"Josh?" Kristen questioned, face unreadable. "Josh who?"

"Hotz," Massie answered, fighting around the _who else?_ waiting on the tip of her tongue. "I didn't want to interact with him at all, though, if that's what you're thinking. He was just there, and then he had my phone, and Dylan was texting me, and-"

"Massie, breathe," Kristen advised.

She did, unaware that she hadn't been doing so. _God, what was wrong with her?_

"It doesn't matter what happened or why you're here," Kristen continued in that soft voice of hers. "Who am I to judge, right?"

Massie frowned. "But you were upset earlier."

"Only that you lied to us, Mass." Kristen smiled at her and Massie felt herself to deflate. "I don't care what you do, alright, and I mean that in the nicest way possible. I don't have to like it, either, but all I ask is that you're honest with me. I can't have another round of us fighting over something insignificant." She paused, looking meaningfully at Massie, and they seemed to think the same thing about Dylan, and Kemp, and Plovert. "Besides," she added as an afterthought, "I didn't have to look for a lab partner in Physics because Chris was just right there. It was convenient."

"Only you would view friendship as convenience," Massie teased.

"Oh, we're not friends," Kristen rebutted playfully. "Yet, at least."

Kristen looped her arm through Massie's and led her back to the cafeteria. "Look, Dylan's not… she's not upset with you, alright?"

"How do you know that?"

"The same way I know you," Kristen replied. "She's my best friend. Give her some time to adjust, you know? I think seeing Kemp that close up again makes her uncomfortable. And between you and me, she's nervous you don't like us half as much as you like Alicia."

While it was nice to know Massie wasn't actually the villain here, Kristen's confession did nothing but confirm her fears- the Pretty Committee _was_ slipping. And it was all her fault.

She shook her hair out to hide her face- she couldn't have Kristen seeing how upset that made her, could she?- and threw open the door to the caf. "That's ridiculous," she said grandly, masking discomfort with extravagance. "I'm throwing her a surprise costume birthday party. A better name is in the works."

"You're throwing Dylan a surprise party?" questioned Derrick, who was still by the door and who seemed more surprised by this than Massie's reappearance.

 _Of course he knows her birthday_. "Yes," she said stiffly, "and I suppose you're invited."

"Aw," Derrick said insincerely, hand over his heart, "but I wouldn't want to impose."

Massie gritted her teeth and felt nauseous as she replied, "All friends of Dylan are invited, so you wouldn't be imposing."

She felt Kristen rub a comforting circle into her back.

"Awesome. What are you going as?"

"Your worst nightmare," Massie snapped.

Derrick merely grinned. "Ooh, love it."

Massie rolled her eyes and moved past him, picking up the towel she'd thrown on the ground earlier. Mrs. Nish had stopped Kristen, looking three parts delighted and one part frazzled, a usual mix for the teacher, and Josh was still where she'd left him, though the floor was shining and trash bags lined the walls.

He didn't bother looking at her but Massie could tell by the slump of his shoulders and his tense back that he was unhappy with her last comment. (And probably himself, but she wasn't the type to presume.)

She thought about Alicia, who had fought for Kemp's friendship. She thought about Claire, who hadn't left the bathroom even when she was given an opportunity to do so. She thought about Kristen, who partnered up with Chris in class despite not being sure where she stood. She even thought about Dylan, who'd been friends with Derrick this entire time.

Her mind was whirling, and she was staring at his back, and she was thinking about herself, and she made her decision, fighting against the rationality of her brain and irrationality of her heart.

"You're invited, too, you know," she told his backwards hat, "since we're friends and all."

"Should I expect you to turn around and deny it again?"

"No." She tucked her hair behind her ear. "I'm sorry about that, I'm just not very good at-"

"I know," Josh interrupted. Normally that would annoy Massie, especially when she was all but baring her heart right here, but it was better than nothing because he was looking at her now, and he was hugging her, and she was hugging him back, and it was nothing like what happened earlier in the hallway, and if she were being honest she felt like she was _home_ -

The moment was ruined by a scoff from behind them.

Massie shot a dirty look in Derrick's direction, pulling away from Josh, who kept his arm hooked around her shoulder.

The other boy met her gaze, face neutral, eyes hard, and a million things piled up on her tongue- nasty, hurtful, terrible things- but she made the effort to keep her mouth shut. Instead she looked around the room.

"What happened to Nish?"

"She had a family emergency," answered Kristen, who looked confused and somehow also in her element. "She asked me to watch over you."

Massie cocked her head to the side, unable to find the words to respond to something so utterly crazy.

"Is she allowed to do that?" asked Josh. "Are you allowed to run detention?"

Kristen shrugged, but looked so in control it didn't seem to matter she was just as lost as the rest of them.

"Great," Derrick spat, still glaring at Massie. She shifted closer to Josh, uncomfortable under the intensity of his stare. "Now this is most certainly going to be the Massie show."

"Dude, don't st-"

" _Excuse me_?" Massie snapped, untangling herself from Josh and putting her hands on her hips. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?" She felt Josh shuffle behind her, his body heat making her feel like she was in a sauna. Or maybe that was just the anger warming her up.

Derrick rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. "You know what it means, Block."

"I clearly don't if I had to ask," she sniped, gaze glued to the muscles straining against the rolled up sleeves of his shirt. Her attention was captured by his tattoos; from here she could see that godforsaken crown (pretentious, much?), some sort of boxing glove maybe, and a ballet shoe. She found herself wondering when he'd done all of this, when he'd decided he wanted it all, and how he managed to get away with it. It looked good on him, though, that was for sure.

She swallowed roughly, looking back up at him. He smirked.

"Uh, I don't have all day," she barked.

He shrugged. "You kind of do," he said. "We could be here forever, remember?"

It took a lot from her to keep from throwing a temper tantrum, but she somehow found the strength. Massie quirked a brow at him, imagining once more what it would be like to choke him to death. Thank god orange wasn't her color or else she'd be doing twenty to life for murder.

Derrick continued to smile at her as if he were aware of her inner struggle.

Massie closed her eyes and breathed deeply. "You're right," she said, "and I don't know about you, but I do want to go home sometime before midnight, so let's just get this finished." She turned on her heel and yanked the mop out of its bucket so aggressively water spilled over onto the floor. She could see her reflection in it.

"You're supposed to sweep first."

"Oh my _god_ , shut up-"

" _Oh my god, shut up_ -"

Josh shot Kristen a _do something!_ look but all Kristen could do was watch, biting down on her lower lip. She looked thoughtful as Derrick continued to copy every bratty thing Massie said. And because it was Massie, it was a lot; she had the spoiled only child act down pat.

When it was clear Kristen was not going to do anything substantial or helpful, Josh tied the garbage bag in front of him, kicked it towards the others, and shouted, "D, we can probably make the last of soccer practice if we work together right now."

"Oh, so _now_ you care about soccer." Derrick looked away from Massie to Josh, eyes narrowed. "It seemed like it was all about Massie for a second there."

The girl in question opened her mouth to say something indignant, but was unable to. Josh did it instead.

"As if it wasn't all about Massie for you too," he retorted.

Massie heard Kristen's sharp intake of breath, felt Derrick's hot gaze flicker from her and to Josh and back again. She pinched the skin in between her thumb and forefinger.

"Well, yeah," said Derrick finally. "It's fun to rile her up. She's hot when she's messy."

Josh blinked, Kristen looked like she'd just figured out the meaning of life, and Massie felt her cheeks start to burn in a mixture of embarrassment and something else she couldn't name.

Well, she _could_ name it, she just didn't want to.

Derrick must have realized what he said and cleared his throat. "You know, because she's always so put together? And it's really unnerving? Like. Like… are you a robot?"

"It's a possibility," Massie replied as coolly as she could manage, but even she heard the breathiness in her voice.

"Yeah, so, I'm merely doing the world a service by ensuring you're not one."

"Thanks," Massie muttered sarcastically.

Derrick nodded, picked up a broom, and ducked his head to start sweeping. The back of his neck was pink.

.

 ** _Alicia Rivera_** : this was actually so boring  
 ** _Alicia Rivera_** : the replacement goalie is so bad  
 ** _Alicia Rivera_** : I'm uncharacteristically concerned for this team if derrick ever gets sick or injured  
 ** _Claire Lyons_** : ""uncharacteristically""  
 ** _Alicia Rivera_** : what I'm being honest I've never once been concerned for the tomahawks  
 ** _Claire Lyons_** : lol i told u it'd be boring tho  
 ** _Alicia Rivera_** : i should have listened  
 ** _Claire Lyons_** : u need to trust me more  
 ** _Alicia Rivera_** : as if i would EVER trust a person who exclusively wears kids  
 ** _Alicia Rivera_** : LOL keds***

.

"Hey, what are you doing here?"

Alicia readjusted the turban-style headband around her hair and squinted as Chris Plovert jogged over to her. He tossed his workout bag at their feet, slipping his warmup jacket over the red cable knit sweater she'd admired earlier that day. She suspected it was Ralph Lauren, which made her adore it even more.

"I watched practice," she answered.

He ran his fingers through his wet hair, fresh from the shower. "You watched our practice?"

"Yeah." She nodded, overcome by the minty scent of his body wash. "You guys suck."

Chris chuckled, shooting her one of those tiny half-smiles boys were so good at. "Derrick and Josh are in detention," he told her, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Ruiz did the best he could, but…"

( _He can't keep up_.)

Alicia admired his smugness. The soccer team's confidence made them all unfairly attractive. Even when they were mediocre and losing every other game, their sheer drive and desire to win- and the lengths they would go to do be seen as a legitimate team- made them probably the hottest boys at school, and that grouping included the football team.

The football team had won four championships back to back, but they were cocky and entitled and while they got the audience they wanted, there was something about the underdog that everyone loved. Soccer was BOCD's sport. Soccer was what mattered. Most of the community had watched these boys grow through the years and unlike Danny Robbins, who'd switched to football as soon as he got into high school, kids like Derrick and Cam had been playing since they were seven. Some even earlier. To see them finally do well, to see them _win_ … it was more than another trophy on the football coach's shelf. It was about determination. It was about pride.

Alicia (and the rest of the Pretty Committee) loved a good winner.

"Massie is in detention with them, too," she replied, meeting his smile with one of her own.

"Ah, that must really be something, then."

"Oh, yeah," she agreed. "I'm sure I would've heard all about it but she hasn't been answering my texts."

Chris leaned up against the fence. "So you're here by yourself?"

Alicia shrugged. "Massie is my ride home, so I'm just waiting for her to get done."

There was a silence, then, something that should have been uncomfortable but wasn't, even with Chris staring intently at her face. Alicia looked back at him, for the first time noticing the brilliant blue of his eyes, and waited for him to say something.

"I can give you a ride," he offered, leaning down to lift his bag up. "I was going to grab something to eat at Slice of Heaven, but I can drop you first if-"

"No!" Alicia interrupted loudly and then mentally scolded herself for yelling. "I mean," she tried again, clearing her throat, "I'll get something to eat with you. I'm hungry and you don't want to look like a loser eating alone."

Chris sighed in mock-relief, lifting a hand to put on Alicia's shoulder. "Thank you _so_ much, Alicia," he said, eyes twinkling with amusement. "You just saved my social life."

"You're welcome." She giggled. "You should appreciate me. I don't often eat in front of boys."

"Oh, I remember," Chris replied. He heaved his bag on his shoulder, car keys jingling in his hand. "Thank you so much for your service tonight, Rivera."

"I can't have you embarrass yourself in front of all of Westchester, you know." She winked at him, ducking her head to text Massie about her whereabouts, and missing out on the way Chris's cheeks reddened, which he was eternally grateful for.

Thirty minutes and most of Hey Violet's _From The Outside_ later, Alicia and Chris were sitting across from each other in a booth at the pizza place, a Hawaiian pie between them.

"I can't believe you like pineapple on pizza," said Chris with his mouth full.

Alicia tossed her napkin at his face, nibbling on the crust of her first slice. "I can't believe other people _don't_ ," she replied, "and swallow before you talk to me, that's gross."

Chris chewed some more and then opened his mouth, showing off the pizza on his tongue, and Alicia, despite the way she talked and acted, found herself laughing out loud.

"Stawp!" she exclaimed. "Ew, Chris, why are you like this?"

"I do this all for you, love," he answered after he swallowed.

Alicia rolled her eyes. "So," she started, dabbing at her next slice with a napkin, ridding it of excess oil, "what kind of things do you do besides soccer?" At Chris' confused look, she elaborated, "What are you interested in?"

He thought about it, slurping on his Coke as he did so. "I mean, I'm the President of our grade," he said.

"That's not an interest," she rebutted. "Like, I love to dance and I wanna be a newscaster so I'm part of the radio and broadcasting club."

"Yeah, you do the announcements in the morning, right?"

She nodded. "And some of the sports commentary."

"You know sports?"

"Not really," she admitted, sliding out of the coat she was still in. "Kristen gave me a crash course in football, but my dad is, like, really into baseball, so that one is easy for me. Other people write the stuff for me to say most of the time."

"Hm," he murmured. "I like art. And building things."

"Building things?" she asked. "What kind of things?"

He shrugged. "Whatever, really. The woodshop class has us making birdhouses, but I did make a chair once, and my sister wanted a vanity that I made her for her birthday."

"Oooh!" Alicia clapped. "Make me something."

Chris swallowed. "What do you want?"

"Oh. I don't know." She cocked her head to the side, considering it, and popped a tiny pineapple piece into her mouth. "Doesn't matter," she decided, "I'd like anything you made me."

"Okay." Chris rubbed at his face. "I'll figure something out, I guess."

.

 ** _Massie Block_** : hey you still at slice of heaven  
 ** _Alicia Rivera_** : yeah  
 ** _Massie Block_** : thank god I'm coming with josh and derrick  
 ** _Alicia Rivera_** : wtf  
 _ **Massie Block**_ : yeah don't ask me why

.

 _Weird,_ Alicia thought, _I'm disappointed_.

Massie slid into the seat beside her and Derrick and Josh clamored around Chris. Her eyes found the latter's and he smiled at her, a tiny little thing, just the quirk of the lips, and shrugged as if to say _what can you do?_

She kicked at his calf in response. He hooked his foot around her ankle.

"Ow," Massie snapped, "what was that for?"

Alicia hadn't realized she pinched Massie's arm. "Sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to."

"I'm starving," Massie announced. "I can't believe how long we were in detention."

"I can," Derrick muttered, slouching in his seat and texting on his phone.

Massie sniffed imperiously, ignoring his comment.

"Ew, you guys are eating pineapple pizza?"

"Yes, Joshua," replied Chris, sharing a knowing look with Alicia, "some of us have _taste_."

Alicia giggled.

Derrick shot Alicia a look over his Android, furrowing his brow.

Josh consulted the menu, then turned to Massie and asked, "Peppers and onions?"

"Obvi," the girl replied, and then as if it pained her: "Derrick, are you okay with that?"

"Works for me," he said, "unless you wanna do half meatball."

"I can do that," Massie returned. "Josh?"

"Yeah," he said, looking over his shoulder for their waiter.

Derrick stared at Massie for a moment, lips pursed, and then he went back to the conversation he was having without them.

As much as Alicia loved Massie, she wasn't really into whatever drama she brought to the table. Clearly something happened at detention and something obviously happened at school- BOCDSecrets didn't report on fake news- but Alicia had been having a good time with Chris before she arrived. A good friend would ask, and probably go to the bathroom with her, but…

"Want the last slice?" asked Chris.

"Split it?"

"Sure."

Massie whispered something at Josh she couldn't hear and he laughed and leaned forward in his seat to reply. Alicia debated asking them if they wanted her to move, but then Derrick opened his mouth.

"How was practice?"

Chris scoffed, dropping Alicia's half of the pizza on her plate. "Ruiz _sucks_ , man."

"Yeah," Alicia agreed. "He saved just about nothing. Is he your only backup?"

Derrick quirked a brow at Alicia. It was as if her presence today was puzzling to him. "No," he replied. "We have another."

"I'd suggest training him," the Latina replied, ignoring Derrick's skepticism. She could care about soccer if she wanted to. "You can't rely on that kid. He allowed the _eeeeeeasiest_ goal today."

"You were there?"

"Yeah."

"She's got a lot of good points," Chris added. "She actually paid attention."

Alicia shrugged, dabbing at her mouth. "I was by myself, what did you expect?"

Derrick dropped his phone on the table and pushed himself up into proper sitting position. "Tell me, Rivera, what do you think? Be honest."

"The team relies too heavily on the five of you," she explained. "Not a bad thing, of course, since you're, like, the best ones on the team, but they should be able to survive without one of you and the team _sucked_ without you, Derrick."

"Good."

"Not good!" she exclaimed. "I mean, good for _you_ , but this is a _group_ sport. If the team loses because you're sick or injured… that's going to be on _you_. And you should want your team to win regardless of if you play. Isn't that how it works?"

"I have no intention of getting sick or injured," he countered.

"No intention doesn't mean it won't happen," she retorted. "I'm not about to root for a team that can't win without one of their players."

"You're rooting for us now?" asked Chris.

"Obviously," Alicia replied with an eye roll. "We're friends again."

Massie nodded her agreement. "And I don't normally befriend losers."

"Gotta make sure we win for you, then, baby." Chris blew a kiss at her.

Massie laughed and caught the kiss, pocketing it. "Thanks, babe."

The other pizza was brought to their table as Derrick debated training Nathan, Todd's friend, or someone named Biggs to be the second string goalie on the off chance he was unable to play, which, he claimed, would never, ever happen. Chris had more opinions on Biggs than Josh did, but they ultimately decided Tiny Nathan, who wasn't so tiny anymore, would be better, and had to tell the rest of the team (aka Cam and Kemp).

Josh bit into half of a slice. "So what are you guys doing for Dylan's surprise Halloween costume birthday party?"

Alicia wrinkled her nose. "Finding a new name for it ay-sap."

"Just call it a surprise party," suggested Derrick. "And pick out a costume for her, that way she isn't suspicious about what's going on." He leveled Massie with a look. "I take it you'll smooth things over with her before this happens?"

"If she talks to me," Massie snapped back.

"Massie-"

"I'm planning this party, alright?" she hissed. "I will do it regardless of if she talks to me. I did nothing wrong."

"I didn't say you did anything wrong, did I?" he retorted. "I would just rather go to a party where the Pretty Committee"- he sounded snotty here- "isn't fighting. I've had too much experience with that."

Alicia sighed as Massie opened her mouth to shoot back a clever comeback and looked away, catching Chris' gaze. He grinned at her, rolling his eyes at their friends, and cocked his head to the side, gesturing to the front door.

"As much fun as this is," Alicia said, playing along, "I should probably get going."

"It's not even seven," Josh pointed out.

"My dad texted me that he wants me home," lied Alicia, slipping her phone, which hadn't rang since Massie arrived, in the pocket of her peacoat.

Chris slipped his arms into his own jacket. "And I'm her ride, so I better head out as well."

"Dean can't get you?" Massie questioned.

Alicia widened her eyes at her friend, hoping she got the hint. If Massie did, she didn't show it, but she did slide out of the booth to allow Alicia out. "He's off tonight," she explained. "Besides, I'm, like, two weeks away from getting my license, so…"

"Thank god," Massie said. "Kristen is kind of terrible at driving."

The other laughed. "You're right. See you tomorrow?"

"You bet." Massie nodded. "We have to plan out Dylan's party."

"I already have the perfect costumes for us to wear," offered Alicia. "We can discuss at the sleepover."

"Get home safe." Massie pulled her into a hug, squeezing her lightly. "And you're telling me everything as soon as I get home," she whispered into her ear.

Alicia's cheeks turned pink as she met Massie's amber-eyed gaze. "There's nothing to tell."

"Right." Massie scoffed. "And I didn't just scrub the cafeteria floors for two hours."

"Gross, you did that?"

"She most definitely did," Josh answered, tapping Alicia's thigh. "There was so much dirt, it was hysterical. I think she cried."

Massie rolled her eyes. "I did _not_."

"She did," Derrick affirmed. "It was kind of sad."

"I hate both of you," snapped Massie, dropping into her seat. "When can we leave? I'm not appreciated here."

"Once you start eating," Josh returned, nudging her plate. "You haven't had a single thing since we got here."

Massie sighed, pulling a hot piece of pizza from the half-eaten pie before her.

"Bye, guys." Alicia waved. "This was fun. Let's do it again."

Chris leaned over the table to fist-bump both Derrick and Josh and then he offered his hand out to Alicia, who took it.

"Let's do it again?" he teased as they exited into the cool night air. "This was fun?"

"I was being _polite_ ," she defended, climbing into the passenger seat of his car. "I don't normally enjoy watching Massie and Derrick go at it, contrary to popular belief."

"You don't?" Chris gasped, pulling the car out of the lot. "It's my favorite pastime."

Alicia laughed, then wrapped her arms around her middle. "Sorry about that. I didn't know she'd come when she asked if I was still here."

"Not your fault," he commented. He flicked his right blinker on, speeding down the street. "Hey, do you want to get ice cream before I drop you? I could really go for something sweet."

 _You're already sweet enough_ , Alicia wanted to say, but she kept that to herself. "Sure," she said instead. "I don't actually have to go home. I like spending time with you."

Chris caught her eye as he stopped at a red light, reaching over to grip her thigh. "I like spending time with you, too," he murmured.

Alicia matched his soft smile with one of her own, putting her hand over his. "I'm gonna pay for both of us, though."

"Ooooh, someone's fancy."

"Shut up." Alicia slapped at him. "You paid for dinner. This is the least I can do."

.

 ** _BOCDSecrets_** posted a new photo  
 _spotted:_ ** _aleesharivera_** _and_ ** _cplov47_** _getting froyo. looks like none of_ ** _dylmarvil_** _'s friends care about her feelings. sorry, D, but remember, you've always got me! #fuckafakefriend #ouch  
_ view all 304 comments _  
_ **cfish** _fake ass gossip girl shit  
_ **lyonsroar** _this is just a picture of two ppl at the pinkberry counter? it doesn't even look like they came together. next  
_ **liv_laughlove** _alicia could do so much better than chris plovert anyways  
_ **becbrie** _ur only saying that bc he wouldn't sleep with u lmao **liv_laughlove**_

.

 ** _Dylan Marvil_** : hey so i can't make the sleepover tmrw, mom's got a thing in the city i have to go to. sorry.  
 ** _Dylan Marvil_** : I'm bringing kristen as my date  
 ** _Dylan Marvil_** : don't have too much fun without us :( xoxox


	6. Sophomore Slump or Comeback of the Year

_Are we growing up or just going down?  
It's just a matter of time until we're all found out  
Take our tears and put them on ice  
'Cause I swear I'd burn this city down to show you the light  
_\- "Sophomore Slump or Comeback of the Year," Fall Out Boy

* * *

 **THURSDAY NIGHT**

* * *

 ** _Massie Block_** : he dropped me off LAST  
 ** _Massie Block_** : L A S T  
 ** _Massie Block_** : and then he says to me  
 ** _Massie Block_** : he says "see you tomorrow"  
 ** _Massie Block_** : as if i am going to see him tomorrow  
 ** _Massie Block_** : asshole  
 ** _Claire Lyons_** : did you really have to tell this story in 6 separate texts  
 ** _Massie Block_** : this is SERIOUS  
 ** _Claire Lyons_** : whats serious is my math test tomorrow gtg  
 ** _Massie Block_** : CLAIRE

* * *

 **FRIDAY AFTERNOON**

* * *

 ** _aleesharivera_** _posted a new photo_  
 _matchy matchy :*_ ** _kemphurley_**  
124 likes / view all 9 comments  
 **jotz** _what the hell_  
 **kemphurley** _she made me do it, attacked me in my sleep, forced it over my head, i am a victim_ ** _jotz_**  
 **aleesharivera** _he's lying he loves it_ ** _jotz kemphurley_**  
 **kemphurley** _eh.. love u tho_ ** _aleesharivera_**

.

 ** _Josh Hotz_** : this could be us but u playin  
 ** _Josh Hotz_** : Attachment: 1 image  
 ** _Massie Block_** : did u rly just send me a screenshot of alicia's instagram  
 ** _Josh Hotz_** : THIS COULD BE US BUT U PLAYIN  
 ** _Massie Block_** : u right  
 ** _Josh Hotz_** : i want to match.  
 ** _Massie Block_** : nah

.

 ** _Derrick Harrington_** : banana or pear  
 ** _Dylan Marvil_** : pear  
 ** _Derrick Harrington_** : great thanks  
 ** _Dylan Marvil_** : r u bringing me a pear?  
 ** _Derrick Harrington_** : no i just really needed your opinion on which one i should eat  
 ** _Dylan Marvil_** : :(

* * *

 **FRIDAY NIGHT**

* * *

 ** _Massie Block_** : no dylan or kristen tonight  
 ** _Massie Block_** : but i made halloween themed mixed drinks so their loss really

.

Massie took a deliberate sip of her Zombie Cocktail - only spooky because of the name and the three different types of rum in it - and leveled Alicia with her best _I'm angry because you are keeping something from me_ glare. The Latina blinked innocently, chewing on a cherry. Claire seemed to be the only one truly dedicated to Dylan's Surprise Halloween Costume Birthday Party.

"I think it needs to be something we can easily get her in without confusing her," said Claire, tucking her hair behind her ears as she squinted at Massie's computer screen. "Sailor Moon is… _a lot_."

"That's why I suggested the Spice Girls," Alicia replied, still maintaining eye contact with Massie. "We could totally convince Dylan to get in a British flag dress - she'll be Ginger, obviously."

Claire typed away, no doubt searching for reference pictures. "Am I Baby?"

"Yeah." Alicia dropped the cherry stem, which she'd twisted into a knot with her tongue, onto the napkin in front of her. "Kristen will be Sporty, I'll be Scary, and Massie will be Posh."

"TBT to the last time I was Posh."

"You were more Juliet than Posh that night," Alicia reminded her.

Massie scoffed, forcing the terrible memories of Skye's Famous Couples party out of her head. That night, Chris Abeley showed his true colors and Massie wanted nothing more than to forget it ever happened. Instead of telling her friends this, she said, "I want to be a hotter Posh this time."

"You can wear this outfit," Claire suggested, nodding towards the screen. "I'm pretty sure it's just a white bikini top with a matching skirt."

"That's too much probably," Massie decided without looking at it. "I'm just gonna do one of those, like, tiny little lingerie dresses she wears." She sipped at her drink again. "You gonna tell me about Chris now or should I wait until you are significantly drunker?" This was towards Alicia.

"Chris?" Claire questioned.

"We're here to plan a birthday party, not talk about Chris Plovert." Alicia spared a glance at Claire. "Right, Kuh-laire?"

Claire consulted her watch, which read 8:43 PM, and shrugged. "There's always time to talk about Chris Plovert," she supplied. "I can multitask."

Alicia groaned. "This is wildly unfair. Mass, you _know_ Claire will agree with whatever you say. You're just ganging up on me here!"

" _Act-_ u-ally, I was just stating a fact," Claire said. "I'm making an invitation, not ganging up on you. Talk all you want. I probably won't pay attention."

"There is _nuh-thing_ to talk to about!"

"You're pretty defensive for someone who has nothing to talk about."

Alicia rolled her eyes and downed the rest of her drink. "If you two are about to - "

"Not listening," Claire interrupted, double-clicking on the mouse.

" _If_ you two are about to believe a pathetic Instagram account over me, I'm leaving." Alicia slammed her empty glass down on Massie's mirrored trunk. "It was _ice cream_ and it doesn't matter."

Massie scoffed. "You two looked pretty cozy to me yesterday. And you definitely crush-pinched me."

" _Crush-pinched_?" Alicia squawked. "I didn't - I told you that was an accident! Besides," she added quickly, because she knew Massie would never take that as an excuse, "we've only been hanging out for, like, a week. How can I have a _crush_ on _Chris Plovert_?"

"At least he's cuter than he used to be," Claire commented idly. "There's nothing wrong with having a crush on him now."

"I _don't_!" Alicia snapped. She swung around to look at the blond. "Do _you_?"

"No." Claire giggled. "There is no need to fight me on it."

"I'm nawt fighting!" Alicia always resorted back to their Valley Girl-esque way of speaking when she got overwhelmed, a fault she and Massie seemed to share. "I don't care if anyone has a crush on him! If you do, fucking - go for it, _whatever_." She paused, finger-combing her hair and settling her face into one of nonchalance. "You guys are the worst."

Massie shrugged, leaning over to refill Alicia's cup. "That's what everything thought at school today."

"What?"

"That you have a crush on Chris Plovert," explained Massie, "or that you guys are - are a _thing_ since they already think we had, like, a threesome with him."

"Foursome, actually," Claire corrected, tilting her head to the side and squinting an eye. "Kemp was involved."

Alicia's cheeks reddened and she took a hefty swig of her new drink; when she put the glass back down, it was half empty. "I _know_ ," she said snippily. "I thought you said you weren't listening."

"I'm not," Claire said.

"Yes, you are, you're _answer_ \- "

"I just want to know about you and Chris," Massie interrupted, hoping to avoid an argument.

"There is no _me and Chris_ ," Alicia snapped. "We're friends who did some friendly things while my _other friends_ " - she glared at Massie and Claire in turn - "were busy!"

Massie scoffed. "Sorry I had detention."

"Everyone knows I have photo club on Fridays."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Alicia waved them off. "Who cares about the rumors, though? We know what's real and what's not. It was nothing. Let them talk." She threaded her fingers through her hair, untangling a knot by her neck. "Besides," she added clandestinely, "if I had to pick one of them to kiss, it would be Kemp."

Claire choked on her rum, coughing.

Massie blinked, and blinked, and blinked.

"Meaning," Alicia went on, twirling her - now knot-free - hair into a chignon and securing it with a colored pencil. "I want to kiss Kemp."

"You want to - "

" _What_ \- "

She caught their eyes respectively, previous blush stretching from her cheeks to her neck, something very out of character for her. Alicia Rivera was never embarrassed when it came to boys. "Was I unclear?" she asked.

"No, it's just - _Kemp_?" Claire demanded, finally looking up from Massie's computer screen.

Alicia put her hands on her hips. "What's that supposed to mean, _Kuh_ -laire?"

"It's just… Kemp's… he's - " Claire floundered, licking her lips as she tried to figure out what to say. "He's - he's kind of - _gross_ , isn't he?"

" _Gross_?" Alicia shrieked. "What do you mean he's _gross_? How _dare_ you."

"He used to look up girls' skirts," the blond reminded her, furrowing her brows. "And he always has something perverted or sexual to say, and he's, like, _such_ fuckboy - "

Alicia's nostrils flared, a tell-tale sign she was getting angry. "That was when he was twelve," she retorted, lip curling. "And he hasn't said anything like that around us - "

" - it's been a week, I'm sure he will - "

" - and just because he had a threesome with Ryan and Jamie does _nawt_ mean he's a fuckboy!"

Claire snorted. "Want me to list the other girls he's slept with? I'd be more than happy to."

"Why do you care?" Alicia demanded. "Better yet, why do you _know_ how many girls he's slept with? Keeping tabs on him?"

"No, I'm - "

"Oh, right, my bad, it's probably Cam you're keeping tabs on," Alicia cut in unkindly. "Newsflash, Claire: when a boy tells you to stop calling him three years ago, it means he doesn't like you."

"At least the boy I liked liked me back," Claire shot at her, eyes blazing. "Josh liked… oh, that's right, _me_."

"Remember when _your_ crush was all gung-ho to kiss _me_?"

"Remember when your crush _did_ kiss me?"

"Remember when - "

"Remember when Cam Fisher is calling me right now?" Massie shouted over them. Her phone was ringing - or barking, depending on how you looked at it - and the boy's name seemed to be screaming up at her.

That shut Alicia and Claire up.

They both looked at her, then at her phone, and then back at her.

"What are you going to do?"

"Answer it!"

"Put it on speaker!"

"What does he want?"

Massie accepted the call on the last ring, pressed her finger to her lips, and applied too much pressure when she clicked the option for speaker phone.

"What do I owe this pleasure?" she greeted, sounding bored and superior. Her gaze flicked from her phone screen to Alicia; she narrowed her eyes and lifted her chin up, her way of saying _we aren't done_.

Because _what_? She wanted to kiss _Kemp_? Normally this would take precedence over a phone call but -

 _This was Cam Fisher_.

Alicia would have to wait.

"Right, yeah, hello to you, too, Mass." Cam's voice was somehow both sarcastic and seductive, though that might have had something to do with the fact that she hadn't heard it in years. You know, in a friendly way. "How's it going?"

Claire reached over and gripped Massie's knee. Massie swatted her hand away. "It's going," she replied evenly, wiping her hands on her comforter. "May I ask why you're calling me? I'm busy."

"I apologize for interrupting the Friday night sleepover," Cam drawled with just the teeniest hint of amusement coloring his tone. "Is something terribly important going on?"

Massie's lip quirked upward. "Everything I do is terribly important."

"A thousand regrets and apologies," he murmured. "I'm just wondering where my invite to Dylan's Surprise Halloween Costume Party is."

Immediately, easily: "Who says you're invited, Fish?"

A loud gasp on the other end. "Blasphemous," he remarked. "I'm invited to everything."

"Hm," Massie returned. "Are you? I don't recall inviting you to my birthday party last year."

Here, Cam grinned, and Massie could hear it in his voice. "I crashed that, though, so _technically_ \- "

"Technically nothing!" Massie cut in, swallowing a giggle. "You were not invited and I did not want you there, so _actually_ \- "

"No actuallys or technicallys allowed here, Massie," he retorted. "I was there, and - "

Massie tutted at him. "Why'd you even crash it? Didn't seem like your kind of thing."

"You got drunk in your backyard," Cam reminded her. "That's exactly my kind of thing?"

"You could've gotten drunk in your _own_ backyard."

"True," he agreed, "but it was missing one thing."

"And what was that?" Massie asked, heart thumping in her chest. She could already anticipate his response. Already seemed to know what he was going to _say_ , and maybe she should have taken the phone off speaker, maybe she shouldn't have looked at Claire as his tongue wrapped around the word -

"You."

She fumbled with the device, accidentally pressing into the keypad and hitting the number one, heard Claire's sharp intake of breath, felt Alicia slyly pinch the skin at her heel. She blinked, listened to the easy way he breathed, loud against her ear, wondered if he'd actually sounded the way she thought he did - breathless, flirty, kind of like a _purr_ \- was it possible to be all of those things at once?

"You're invited," she blurted quickly, staring down at her fuzzy socks.

The computer mouse clicked once, twice, three times, and Claire was back to work. She sniffed, made an idle comment about font choices, Alicia offered up the helpful _something spooky but classy, Claire_.

"Claire's" - she emphasized the name, hoping for some sort of reaction; there was none, and her heart skipped a beat in her chest. Maybe she hadn't imagined it - "making the invite now, so you can expect one…"

"…in his email," Claire muttered, pulling a ghost into the corner of the screen, right over Dylan's name.

"In your email," Massie told him. "Probably tonight. Do _nawt_ tell Dylan."

Cam snorted. "Why would I tell Dylan?"

"Because she hangs out with Derrick."

"Yeah, last time I checked I wasn't Derrick," he replied. "I'm not stupid. I know how surprise parties work."

"Great, me too," Massie said stupidly. "See you then."

"See you sooner?" he asked before she could hang up.

"Um." She reached up to twirl a strand of hair around her finger and then dropped her hand. That was too telling. "It's in two weeks," she decided to say. "The party."

Cam shuffled on the other end. She thought she heard him chewing. "Right. The twenty-ninth. But I meant I'd like to see you sooner than that."

"Right." Massie nodded. She stretched her leg out, trying to act nonchalant. "Um, sure?"

"Sure as in maybe or sure as in yes?"

"You're really pushy," Massie told him. "Sure as in sure, I don't see why not. How do you like that?"

Cam chuckled. The sound reverberated through Massie's body. "You're really mean. But," he added quickly, before she had a chance to defend herself. "Sure as in sure, I don't see why not works for me. Pizza?"

"I just _did_ that."

"So you can't do it again?"

"Normally it is one hundred percent not allowed," she said seriously, "but I can make an exception, I suppose."

"For me?"

"No, for pizza," she retorted. She could feel Claire's eyes on her and felt a twinge of guilt in the pit of her stomach - she wasn't exactly trying to _stop_ him, was she? "Goodbye."

She hung up the phone, flipped it upside down, and cupped her chin in her hand. Claire was biting her lower lip as she looked at the computer screen; from here, Massie could see the swirling font that spelled out _Pre-Halloween_ \- did she want to change that? - and the cute little background Claire had picked out.

"How's it going?" she asked, realizing she and Alicia weren't actually doing any work.

Alicia slurped at her drink, making far too much noise.

"More spooky than classy," admitted Claire, words clipped and slightly short. She tugged at her bangs. "Like, tacky spooky, but I think it works."

Massie knocked her feet together. "That's okay," she said. "It _is_ a Halloween party."

"In September."

"Shut up, Leesh."

"Hey," the Latina started, looking up. Her cheeks were rosy. "What was all that about Cam and pizza?" The twinkle in her eye was annoying and all-knowing. Massie wanted to throw something at her.

"He's bringing pizza to the party," she fibbed quickly.

"Uh huh," Alicia murmured.

Claire turned her head to look at her. "I thought you wanted that Mexican place to cater?"

"He insisted." Massie shrugged apologetically. "But I still want that seven layer bean dip."

.

 ** _Massie Block_** : gonna need you to bring pizzas to the party  
 ** _Cam Fisher_** : place ur order at slice of heaven ill pick it up day of  
 ** _Massie Block_** : an angel  
 ** _Cam Fisher_** : thats u  
 ** _Massie Block_** : ew  
 ** _Cam Fisher_** : ;)

.

 **Alicia**  
hey what ru doing rn

 _Kemp Hurley is typing…_

.

"Oh my _god_ ," Dylan groaned. "Did you see this? Why are they there?" She pressed her phone into Kristen's arm and chewed on the cucumber slice she took off her eye.

"Did I see what?" asked Kristen. She capped the mint green nail polish and unlocked Dylan's phone; the passcode was her birthday.

Dylan slumped in her seat. "Check Massie's story."

Kristen did as she was told. Video clips and photos of the weekly sleepover popped up: a couple of glasses with the caption _spooky drinks_ , and seven seconds of Alicia laughing, and -

"Just a casual day in the life," Massie's voice said.

It was Claire and Chris Plovert by Massie's desk. "This is so not my color, Claire," he argued, but he sat there anyway, letting the blond paint the nails of his left hand electric blue.

"It matches your eyes," she told him.

Chris considered it. "Too bright, I think."

It zoomed in on his face, brows furrowed as he watched Claire, and then it shifted to Kemp's back, broad shouldered and strong, as he looked at himself in Massie's expansive mirror. Alicia pressed her fingers against his face and he moved model-like in the reflective surface.

"What the fuck is this?" he asked, slapping Alicia's hand away from him. His eyeball was practically against the mirror. "My cheekbones look _amazing_."

"Highlighter!" Alicia chirped.

There was a two second delay as the camera flipped to Massie's face, and she sipped her drink out of a straw, shimmying to the beat of _Kiwi_ by Harry Styles. In the background, Kristen could hear Alicia explaining the wonders of makeup and Kemp singing along to a song she never anticipated he knew the words to.

"I mean, yeah, why are Chris and Kemp there, but also…" Kristen twisted her nail polish loose again. "Who really cares?"

"Me!" Dylan exclaimed.

"Why, though?" asked Kristen, swiping the color across her thumbnail. "Believe me, I get it, but… they haven't done - "

"They _ruined_ my _life_ , Kristen," Dylan snapped, rubbing her cinnamon and honey face mask into her cheeks.

"Two years ago," the blond reminded her, commenting (on her own phone) on Massie's story.

 _LOL_ , she said, _kemp doesn't actually need highlighter his cheekbones are to die for._

 _He says thank you_ , Massie replied, and then, forty seconds later, she added, _miss you_.

Kristen responded with a series of kissy emojis - Massie hated when her friends left her on read - and turned her attention back to Dylan, who hadn't said anything else.

There was a sticky fingerprint on the screen in front of her, where she'd pressed down on Kemp's - apparently Dylan still had all the boys on social media - Snapchat. His story was still going; it looked like Kemp was trying to get the dog filter on both him and Bean, but Dylan swiped past it before Kristen could get a good look.

"You know," the blond started, throwing herself down next to Dylan, "we can talk about it if you want."

Clipped: "Talk about what?"

Kristen gestured to the phone. "That."

Kemp was shouting about girls being weird, zooming in on interesting things in Massie's room: her dog mannequin ( _what the fuck is this Massie_ ), a baby picture of Todd Lyons she had stolen for blackmail and then ended up keeping ( _this is the cutest shit I've ever seen_ ), the invitation to Alicia's latest dance recital ( _uh where's my invite Riv_ ), and the group shot of the Pretty Committee where Dylan had stuck animal stickers over their faces ( _is Claire a bear?_ ).

"There's nothing to talk ab-"

"Dylan," Kristen said. "There is most certainly something to talk about here, so don't try to play that game with me. You hardly ever talk about what happened with them in the first place."

"There really isn't anything to talk about," Dylan insisted. "Kemp fucked my sisters and Chris fucked me over. It's as simple as that."

"If it was simple, you wouldn't be this upset about it now." Kristen picked at a cuticle. "I get that it was traumatic and terrible and it really tore down your self esteem, but it's been _two years_ , and you're so much better than that. And them."

"I thought we all were," muttered Dylan, avoiding Kristen's gaze. "And yet, here we are." She was watching the end of Kemp's story, gnawing on her lower lip.

With nothing else to do and without a plan, Kristen watched it with her, her mind going a mile a minute. She wanted to talk to Dylan about this - about the boys, about why she was so angry all the time when she hadn't been that way a month ago. If they could get to the root of the problem, they could go back to Friday night sleepovers and Kristen wouldn't have to tiptoe around everyone, wouldn't have to pick sides, wouldn't have to -

"Does it bother you," Dylan started, throwing her phone onto her pillow, "that everyone always picks them?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," said Dylan, standing to get a washcloth, "that we're nice girls, right, you and I, and we're pretty, obviously, and we're fun, and yet… everyone always wants _them_." She rubbed vigorously at her face. Clumps of cinnamon and honey slid down her neck to her bathrobe. "We fought over Derrick when we were twelve and he didn't even care, he wanted Massie, and everyone _always_ wants Alicia, and if she gives them even the tiniest bit of attention they'll do anything she asks…"

Kristen frowned. "What?" she asked.

"…and Derrick didn't even want to consider that there could possibly be someone else he could like, it was just Massie, Massie, Massie, and she was a real bitch when we were in middle school, how could he even like her…"

"I'm confused," Kristen announced. "Do you want to date Derrick or something? Didn't you guys try that and it, like, didn't work?"

"Ew, gross, don't suggest that to me again, thanks." Dylan sniffed, face clean, and squirted some moisturizer in her hands. "And I wouldn't say we _dated_ ," she added, wrinkling her nose, "he just wanted to make M- you know, it doesn't matter."

Only one of Kristen's hands had nails that were painted, but she didn't care. "I don't think I'm following this correctly."

Dylan sighed, wiped her palms on her thighs, and pulled her hair out of her topknot. "Chris was my best friend, if you remember," she told Kristen.

"Okay, ouch."

"You know what I mean." She kicked at Kristen's ankle. "Like, if I were Massie, he was my Josh, except he _wasn't_ because Chris did not fawn all over me like Josh does to Massie. But whatever, that's not what matters, what _matters_ is that I could tell Chris anything and he would just… be there. He wouldn't judge me and he wouldn't try to find solutions; he'd just - we'd watch movies or get food and just kind of… _be_ , right?"

Kristen nodded.

"And… and… I guess it was really easy for me to develop this, like, crush on him - do not look at me like that, I don't want to talk about it - and I thought to myself _wow, here's a guy who is nice and he's cute and he won't fuck me over like Kemp_." She snorted. "I somehow forgot that Kemp was his best friend and obviously they're exactly the same - "

" - I don't think that's quite possible - "

" - Cam and Derrick are literally the same person," Dylan reminded her with a quirk of the brow. "Cam's just a lot smoother."

Kristen couldn't argue that. "I don't think it's fair to lump Kemp and Chris together and to, like, assume just because Kemp is his best friend that he would 'fuck you over'." She used air-quotes here and then wondered immediately afterwards if that was rude of her.

Dylan didn't seem to notice. "But he _did_ fuck me over," she said. "I had figured out I liked him, and I just wanted to spend time with him, and it's my fucking birthday, and my sisters are for some unknown reason fooling around with _Kemp_ \- like I get it, he's pretty, but he's _two years younger than them_ , like he was _fourteen_ \- "

"Fifteen," corrected Kristen. "He got held back."

"What- _ever_ ," Dylan sniped. "So they're doing that, right, and I'm a fucking - I'm a mess - and all I wanted was to leave my party and go to the diner with Chris, which he _said_ he would do, but then Alicia fucking Rivera shows up - you remember she was late to my own birthday because she went to, like, the football afterparty - "

"Alicia's a cheerleader - "

"I literally do not care," Dylan said rudely (and honestly). "But Alicia was a wreck because she's _always_ a wreck when she's drunk and, like, she was all over Chris for no reason because she _had_ to tell him and only him something, and he just… _forgot_ about me because everyone _loooooves_ Alicia!"

Kristen waited a beat to see if Dylan was going to continue, but the latter merely sighed grandiosely and patted her face with toner.

"Is that what you're upset about?" she asked. "That they picked her over you?"

"I don't understand the obsession is all." Dylan sat back down, crossed her legs at her ankle, and leaned forward to sift through the nail polishes. "No boy has ever fought for _me_ the way they fought for her. What is so special about her?" She chose a pale pink, shook it up, and tested it out. "And it's not that I even wanted them to pick me," Dylan went on. "I just… don't get it. Like, they're pretty, yeah, but what else is there? Massie lies to us all the time and she only ever wants to hang out with Alicia, so I say let them be alone. Who cares?"

"I do," Kristen replied. _And so do you._ "They're our friends. We've been through too much to let a dumb friendship with Kemp Hurley tear us apart."

"Were you not listening to me?"

"I was, but like I said, that happened years ago. We're all different people now." Kristen flipped her hair over her shoulder, getting it out of her face. "We're, like, _real_ friends now, not just props in the grand scheme of things. I can't remember the last time we actually worried about popularity. When was the last time you heard Massie say _alpha_?" Kristen paused, actually considering her question. It had been so long. "Your birthday party was the straw that broke the camel's back. Everything went downhill from there. All of this happened because we were still fighting each other to be the prettiest, the coolest, the most popular. Alicia and Massie were fighting over the cheerleading hierarchy and Alicia was acting out because all the football players liked her, not Massie, and you were branching out into drama club, and - and - I just think you should give it a chance."

"I do not want to be friends with them."

"I meant just talk to them," Kristen said. "Let them know how you feel. If there is one thing we never got, it was closure."

Dylan scoffed. "I don't need closure."

Kristen returned to her own nails, inspecting the color, which she hated now. "I think you do," she offered, "or else you're going to be this angry your whole life. And I know you're mad, but do you really want to isolate yourself from everyone else?"

"Won't you still be my friend?"

"Of course," Kristen replied without hesitation. "It's just… we used to get mad at Massie when she tried to tell us who we couldn't date or hang out with and you're kind of doing the same thing."

Dylan scrubbed her hand over her face. "I'm not doing it on purpose," she admitted. "I don't even mean to say the things I say half the time. I just don't want to get hurt again."

Kristen reached over and gripped Dylan's knee. She squeezed once, supportively. "You're only hurting everyone else by acting this way," she murmured. Dylan blinked. "Just give it a shot. You don't have to do anything huge. Just try to sit in the same room as them. Maybe don't cause a scene in the middle of the cafeteria."

The redhead giggled. "How pissed is Massie about Derrick?"

"Oh, you know," Kristen began airily. "She hasn't allowed herself to process it yet, but she'll pretend she doesn't care even though she does. In that, like, super aggressive way of hers."

"Of course," said Dylan. "I'll have to apologize for that, too."

"You're not in the wrong for being friends with him," Kristen responded. "It's that you didn't tell her. She can't fault your families for being close."

Dylan bobbed her head, looking less stressed than she had all day. "God, I'm such a hypocrite," she said. "Here I am, hanging out with her ex-boyfriend and I'm yelling about how wronged and cheated I feel because they're friendly with Kemp and Plovert."

"Admitting it is the first step," Kristen told her wisely. She dunked a cotton ball in nail polish remover and rubbed the green off her fingers. "Look, Massie's a lot better than she used to be. I think she just wants to talk to you."

"I owe Kemp an apology, too," Dylan mused, "and a new shirt."

"I still can't believe you threw coffee at him."

"You can't?" Dylan inquired, shooting her a look. "That's pretty on brand for me."

* * *

 _ **to**_ : undisclosed recipients  
 _ **from**_ : The Pretty Committee  
 _ **subject**_ : Dylan's Birthday - shhh ;)

 **YOU'RE INVITED TO...**

 **DYLAN MARVIL'S SURPRISE HALLOWEEN COSTUME BIRTHDAY PARTY**

 _When_ : Friday, September 29th, 8PM  
 _Where_ : The Block Estate  
 _No costume, no entrance  
Spooky drinks at a first come, first serve basis - BYOB_

** DO NOT TELL DYLAN  
** IF SHE FINDS OUT ABOUT THIS, WE WILL DESTROY YOU

* * *

 **a/n:** next chapter should be the party! if it isn't, it's definitely the one after, and then we get into the more juicy things... also i've been trying to write a halloween oneshot for, like, weeks, so maybe if i type this out it will actually get finished? be on the look out for that (fingers crossed)!

let me know what you think and what you'd like to see in the future! write me long rambly things ;)


	7. On The Loose

_I know what she's like_  
 _She's out of her mind_  
 _And wraps herself around the truth_  
 _She'll jump on that flight_  
 _And meet you that night_  
 _Make you tear up the room  
_ \- "On The Loose," Niall Horan

.

"Oh my _god_ ," Massie mumbled as she woke, neck aching and legs cramping. It felt like she was overheating, her shirt plastered against her back with sweat.

As she stretched, she made two realizations:

1\. She was curled up in her _dog's_ bed.

2\. Chris Plovert was wrapped around her.

She licked her lips, biting her tongue to keep from shrieking, and slowly, as not to wake him, inched her way out of the most uncomfortable place in the world. Honestly how did Bean do it?

Head swimming and still half-drunk, Massie looked around her room. They'd somehow managed to clean up their mess - any sign of drinking had been thrown away - and the television was asking if they were still watching Netflix. There was no sign of Claire, but she probably left to go sleep in her own house - a habit she'd gotten into as they got older - and Alicia was missing too. The only person in Massie's bed was Kemp, who had kicked off her comforter and _was cuddling her dog_.

Bean was snuggled up against the boy's chest, her little head tucked beneath Kemp's chin. Massie truly, honestly debated pulling her away from him, but instead stumbled into her bathroom and brushed her teeth.

She looked at herself in the mirror and frowned; her face was pale and pasty, her eyes out of focus. She imagined this would be what she looked like when she died, and no amount of water or moisturizer could change that.

With a heavy sigh, Massie padded out of her bathroom, grabbed her phone off the desk, and scrolled through the notifications she received while she made her way downstairs.

Alicia sent her a picture of Kemp with Bean followed by three separate texts of every heart she could find in her iPhone. Her dad texted _next time you steal all of my rum I want whatever you're drinking_ and Kristen liked every single Tweet she'd posted, one of which was just a series of question marks.

Josh replied to her Snap Story with the ghost face emoji and _why am I never invited to these things how dare you we're over._

Massie responded: _but babe ):_

She wasn't expecting him to answer back so quickly, but he did, just as she was stepping off her stairs, practically slipping on the recently waxed floors. _I'll think about it_ , he said.

" - no, Dad, look, _really_ look!" Alicia's voice was grating; Massie resisted the urge to rub her temples. There was a huff and then: "You're not looking!"

The brunette shuffled into the kitchen to find her father and Alicia huddled together at the breakfast table, the latter shoving her phone in William Block's face.

"I am looking, Alicia, but the phone is too close to my eye for me to really _see_ \- "

Alicia pulled it back an inch and pointed. "Look!"

"Alright, yes, he is a beautiful boy" - William sounded pained - "but I'm pretty sure last week you told me you were in love with somebody else."

"Who was I in love with last week?" she demanded.

Massie plopped down in a chair opposite them, pulling the pot of coffee in the center of the table closer to her. She felt slightly nauseous, this rolling, empty feeling in her stomach - how much had she drank last night? - and she hoped some of this coffee would help.

"I don't know," Will said. "Weren't you talking about some kid named Daniel?"

Alicia made a face. "Danny Robbins? Absolutely not." She scoffed. "He thinks he's, like… entitled to me or whatever because I - " She swallowed whatever she was going to say next and Massie smirked into her mug. "You flirt with one teenage boy _once_ and he thinks that means you're going to, I don't know, sl-"

"Alicia, please stop there." William frowned deeply, pushing out his chair. "Good morning, sweetie," he said to Massie, taking the long way around the table to muss up her hair. "How are you?"

She shrugged, mouth full.

"He's, like, a _really_ good cuddler, too," Alicia went on, thumbing through someone's Instagram. Massie assumed it was Kemp's and rolled her eyes; she still didn't understand. "Like, last night - "

William closed the cabinet door a little too loudly. " _Last night_?"

"You said the boys could come over," Massie offered up.

"We drank - " Alicia paused again, catching Massie's eye. When Massie didn't do anything, she continued, "We drank too much and fell asleep."

"If it matters," Massie added, "I woke up in Bean's bed."

William uncapped what looked like an expensive bottle of whiskey. "In Bean's - "

"It was not comfortable." Massie buttered a piece of toast. "I think Chris is still in it. I don't know how the two of us fit."

The older man poured a significant amount of alcohol in his cup. He sighed, brought the spiked coffee to his mouth, and drank. "Who are these boys?" he questioned after he drained half.

"Chris Plovert and Kemp Hurley," said Alicia. "They - we used to hang out with them in middle school? They're friends with Josh, and Cam, and Derrick."

Massie's dad made a face. "Why are you hanging out with those punks again?"

His daughter snorted into her breakfast. Alicia echoed him, aghast. " _Punks_?"

He turned, leaning his hip against the counter. "Those boys hurt you real bad last I checked," he replied, light gaze flicking from Alicia to Massie. "Is it best you hang around them again?"

Massie licked her lips, ducking her head and looking away from Will. There was a heat in her cheeks and climbing up her neck - she knew her dad was remembering the night she'd come home, in tears and shaking, trying to rip her Juliet dress off as she stomped up the stairs. She never told him anything about her life before that night; it was mainly Kendra she went to, more comfortable talking to another woman about her love life and her friends and the drama at school.

Her mother hadn't been home - she was hardly ever home anymore, jetting off on one model excursion after another - and she just needed to _talk_ to someone… so she told her dad, and, well, she never really stopped telling him.

"Alicia wants to kiss Kemp," Massie blurted, hoping to rid herself of those terrible memories and her father's knowing stare. It was like he could see right inside her, like he knew her thoughts and the desires she kept hidden even from herself.

"I figured that much when she started showing me - "

" - look at his eyes, Dad!" Alicia interrupted, waving her phone around. "They're so nice, and they sparkle, and they - "

William finished his coffee. Massie could tell he was debating making another.

"They're _brown_ ," she said.

Alicia paused, glaring at her friend. "Oh, _I'm_ sorry not everyone's eyes can be as freaky as Cam's!"

"They're not _freaky_ \- "

" - they're two different colors! He looks like a _dog_ \- "

" - okay, that's mean, Leesh, he can't help how - "

" - _Massie's going on a date with Cam_ \- "

" - it's not a _date_ , it's just _pizza_ \- "

" - not a date? _Why'd you crash my party, Cam? Oh, my backyard was missing you_ \- "

" - that is so not what happened - "

" - oh, so you remember the conversation - "

" - and it's not a date! You and Plovert got pizza together and that wasn't a date - "

While Alicia and Massie bickered, Will poured more whiskey in his mug. There was no coffee in it.

"Does someone want to fill me in here?" he asked. "I'm lost."

"Alicia went on a date to Slice of Heaven with Chris, who is upstairs, but wants to kiss Kemp, who is also upstairs - "

" - and Massie agreed to go on a date with Cam, not upstairs, but also at Slice of Heaven, though when I was there last, it most certainly was _not_ a date, and he - Cam, I mean - called her and was all _flirty_ \- "

" - yeah, he was flirty, but come _on_ , he's always flirty - "

" - oh, yeah, because he always, like, fuckin' - _word-fucks_ \- "

William choked.

" - ew, that is _not_ what he did - "

" - then why are you blushing - "

" - hey, let's go back to you wanting to _kiss_ \- "

"There's a big tropical storm coming our way," William said loudly, "isn't that wild?"

Massie stopped mid-sentence, mouth ready to form Kemp's name, and shot her father a bewildered look. He gestured with his chin to the doorway behind her, put his cup down, and said, quite loudly and with his best authoritative tone, "If it isn't the boys who slept in my daughter's bedroom! Good morning!"

Alicia turned red, shook her hair out to cover her cheeks, and fumbled with her phone. It dropped into her lap; she picked up her fork and started to violently stab the fruit bowl in front of her.

"Oh, um," Kemp squeaked, disheveled, black shirt covered in dog hair, "yes, hi."

Massie rolled her eyes, snapped _dad_ in warning, and patted the seat next to her. William watched Kemp shuffle into the chair. Alicia spared him a glance, chewed on a cantaloupe piece. Massie reached over and poured Kemp a glass of orange juice.

Chris came loping in moments later, tucking his hair into his gray beanie, surveying the room - slightly awkward and uncomfortable - and headed over to Will instead of taking the other empty seat on Massie's left.

"Wonderful to see you again, sir," he greeted, forcing Massie's dad into a handshake. Will looked startled but pleased. "You have a lovely home and an extremely comfortable dog bed. I understand Massie probably didn't alert you of us sleeping over - she's very rude like that - and I apologize for overstaying my welcome."

"Oh my god," Massie groaned.

"Suck up," muttered Kemp.

Chris winked at them, shoving his hands back in his pockets. He and Kemp hadn't anticipated sleeping over, so both of them were still in their jeans from the day before.

William shook his head in exasperation and waved towards the general direction of the table. "Have a seat," he said, practically resigned. "Teenagers drain me, but you are right about my daughter's lack of manners."

" _Lack of manners_ \- "

"She stole all my rum and didn't offer me any of her creation," William told Chris, who nodded solemnly in agreement.

"They were terrible," the younger boy agreed. "Far too much alcohol. I assume that's how I ended up in Bean's bed."

"I thought they were nice," Kemp retorted, "and if I had _known_ " - he glared at Massie - "that your dad was here I would have offered him one."

"And your mom's phone number so he could tell her where you were?" Chris teased, chewing two pieces of bacon at once.

Kemp reached around Massie to pinch Chris' ear. "Obviously not. My mom is away this weekend, so I would have given him my dad's."

"So wholesome," muttered Massie, crossing her arms.

"Some of us care about our families, Massie dearest."

"Yes." Chris bobbed his head. "We tell them where we are going and who we are with and if we are returning any time soon - "

" - except I forgot to do that last part, I fell asleep - "

" - I cannot stand either of you, please get away from me, never hang out with me again - "

" - only if you stop inviting us - "

" _Alicia_ invited you, actually, thanks." Massie sniffed, ripping apart her neglected piece of bread. "I didn't even want you in my house."

"Which is why," Kemp started around a mouthful of potatoes, "you were so excited to see us you hugged me for about ten minutes."

Massie slapped at his hand as he tried to steal her food. "There is food _right there_ , Hurley."

"But yours is so much better!"

"I can't believe I was excited to see you," she returned, letting him take her egg (over easy). "I blame the Zombie Cocktails."

"Zombie Cocktails?" William asked Alicia, who'd been uncharacteristically quiet, nudging her shoulder.

She brushed her hair out of her face, caught Kemp's eye, swallowed, and said, "It was mainly just a lot of rum." She paused, thinking about it. "Three different kinds. I don't even know what else was in it."

"Right now it feels like we only drank three kinds of rum straight," Chris offered up. "Can someone pass the hot sauce?"

"Good morning," Kemp said to Alicia; his mouth quirked up into one of those tiny smiles she loved, and she pinched the skin between Will's index finger and thumb. "How did you sleep?"

"Well," she replied. "You?"

"Your hair tastes lovely."

"Ohmigod," Alicia murmured. "I'm _so_ sorry."

"Like I said," he replied, "tastes lovely."

"Hey," Chris piped up, looking up from his plate, "when did Claire leave? She wasn't in the room when I got up."

Massie noticed he was avoiding looking in Kemp and Alicia's direction. "Um," she began, licking her lips.

Why did she feel like she _knew_ something? Had Chris told her anything last night? Was it important? Looking from him to Alicia, she felt like maybe it was, but she couldn't remember…

"I think she left before bed," the girl answered. "She very rarely wants to sleep on the floor anymore."

Alicia couldn't help the snort that escaped her. Then, to put the icing on the cake, Will exclaimed, "Oh, Claire is the one that dated Cam!"

Chris frowned. "What about Cam?"

Massie shot them both a nasty glare, but they didn't seem to get the memo. Instead, her father said to Kemp and Plovert, two boys that were friends with Cam, "Massie and Cam are going on a date, I think. "

"It's _nawt_ a date!" the girl shrieked.

Alicia cackled.

" _A date_?"

"With _Cam_?"

"Cam Fisher?"

"All he did was ask if I wanted to get pizza!"

"Pizza!"

"What are his intentions?" demanded Kemp.

"He's _your_ friend!"

"He doesn't want to go on a pizza-date with _me_ ," Chris squawked.

"It's not a date!"

"Pizza sounds like a date to me."

"Dad, kick them out!"

"They can stay, I think."

" _Dad_!"

.

"Wait, wait, wait," Layne Abeley interrupted Claire mid-rant. "Did you call me to talk about _Cam Fisher_? What _year_ is this?"

Claire ignored the dig, wrapped herself tighter in her comforter, and looked up at the glow in the dark stars stuck to her ceiling. She'd asked her dad _months_ ago to take those down. "You should have heard him, Layne," she went on, "he was all…" She trailed off, licking her lips, unable to go on.

"He was all _what_?" Layne demanded. "You've been broken up for - for - _three_ years, why are you - "

"Layne, can you just be a good friend and listen to me?"

The girl huffed on the other line. "I could if you'd just, y'know, finish a sentence."

"It's just… it's hard, okay?" Claire sighed. " _He_ reached out to _her_ , not the other way around, and he sounded so… so… oh my god, Layne, his voice is just…"

She started babbling about the way she'd felt when she heard him, the way she could envision his mouth. He'd sounded kind of like melted chocolate, which was weird to compare it to, she guessed, but it was - it was _rich_ and _smooth_ and kind of _warm_ , and - and - and not at all directed towards her.

Even at age twelve he'd had such a way with his words, with his voice. He'd always known the right thing to say, how to make her feel better, how to pick her up when she was down. On the flip side, though, he'd also known all the things to say to make Claire feel like shit. But despite that, despite their tumultuous relationship and all that came with it, to hear him _flirt_ with Massie in front of her…

She knew Massie hadn't known he was going to do that, but…

It hurt.

It was like a scratch, painful and throbbing, and no number of terrible memories - and there were many - could make it stop.

"I'm sure it's nothing," said Layne. "Cam's like… he's different from when you were with him anyways. More like Harris now."

Claire scoffed. "And how would you know that?"

"We're still in a band together," she reminded her. "Just because Derrick left doesn't mean - "

"Oh, yeah, your dumb indie project," mumbled Claire, shoving her face in her pillow.

Layne sighed. Claire could imagine her closing her eyes tightly and sending up a small prayer. "Look," she started, "I get that this upsets you. It _shouldn't_ , but I get it. I'm not the person you should be directing your anger at, though, and - I can't believe I'm saying this - neither is Massie. I'm sure she's not actually going to do anything about his lame flirting."

"Yeah, but, Layne, you should have seen her face," Claire whined.

"Okay, and would you not?" retorted the other. "Cam's a pretty boy. And didn't she like him, like, a bazillion years ago? Probably just a reflex."

"Reflex," parroted Claire flatly.

Claire could hear Layne's nod. "Don't you think I sometimes get butterflies or whatever when Eli looks my way? Just last week, he asked me for a pencil and I - "

"Do you?" the blond cut in, not interested in the story. "Get butterflies, or whatever, I mean."

"No, of course not," Layne replied. "I care very little about Eli."

"Then why did you…"

"Just talk to her. Massie's your friend, right?"

Images of her brunette leader filled her head. Looking directly at her as Cam confessed to wanting to see _her_. Avoiding twirling her hair around her finger. Swallowing a giggle. Lying (she most certainly was, but Claire couldn't figure out why) about pizzas for the party. She remembered the way she was bullied all those years ago, how Massie had a habit of tightly controlling everything around her.

But then there were the good times, more so than the bad, where Massie allowed them to do whatever they wanted, admitted to being too uptight. Times when Massie would indulge in sweets and pillow fights and destroy Claire's room with her when she was upset. Years ago Massie would help Claire when it came to Cam. She'd chosen Claire without a second thought the last time the couple broke up, purposely answered the phone when Cam caved and wanted to apologize and ask Claire for forgiveness.

She always had her back, even when she couldn't show it. She'd always been honest with her.

"Yes," Claire answered.

.

 ** _mmmblock_** _posted a new photo  
happy birthday _**_dylmarvil_** _i think we're still fighting but i love u  
_ 203 likes / view all 7 comments **  
dylmarvil** _ty loveu_ 💕  
 **derrickharrington** _cute_

.

 ** _Chris Plovert_** : HEY BUD WHAT R UR PLANS W MASSIE  
 ** _Cam Fisher_** : gonna eat some pizza  
 ** _Cam Fisher_** : and demand to know why i was the last one invited to this party  
 ** _Chris Plovert_** : I TRUST U VERY LITTLE  
 ** _Cam Fisher_** : thanks why are you yelling  
 ** _Chris Plovert_** : WHY NOT

.

Massie cocked her head to the side, surveying her outfit for the fifteenth time since she put it on. Was it too much? Did the white button-down make the knitted yellow crewneck look too formal? Did the cracked vinyl miniskirt match the look at all? Was this even suitable for an hour or two at A Slice of Heaven?

 _This isn't a date_ , Massie thought at her reflection, reaching up to tighten her sleek high pony. _Get back out there before he thinks you have some sort of intestinal issue._

She swiped her lips with one last layer of Cinnabon Glossip Girl (an oldie but a goodie), squared her shoulders, and threw the bathroom door open. Her black patent leather ankle boots clacked against the rust-colored terracotta floors as she made a beeline, though not too eager, of course, towards Cam.

She smoothed down the popped collar of his flannel, cold fingers accidentally brushing against his neck, and admired his blue-green sweater fleetingly. It made both of his eyes pop, but she didn't notice that, nope, because this was nothing other than two not-friends getting together after a number of years apart.

It was kind of mature of them. Very _Sex and the City_ , except they were sixteen and eating pizza, not drinking mimosas at brunch.

"Thanks," Cam said.

"Can't have you looking less than perfect in my presence."

"Naturally." He looked up from the menu and considered her, licking his lips. "Now, tell me if I got it wrong: you like peppers and onions… and also… mushrooms?"

Suddenly Massie wished she hadn't put all her hair up; she had nothing nervously tuck behind her ears. Instead, she murmured, "Correct," and focused on the shiny napkin dispenser between them. She could see her reflection in it - _why was she blushing_?

"Great." Cam slapped his palm against the menu in front of him. "I already ordered."

"A whole pizza?" asked Massie, looking up.

"Of course not," Cam replied, "that's far too much. I got two of those little personal pies."

Massie considered him, gaze raking over his sharp jawline and impressive cheekbones. It looked like his face was carved out of marble, skin pale as if he didn't practice soccer outside at all. Its milky whiteness made the already-bright color of his eyes even more intense. Intimidating.

And then he smiled, and all the harsh edges disappeared, and he was -

She shook herself out, licking her lips. _Not a date. Not interested. Not a date. Not interested._

"So kind," she drawled. It was a testament to her resilience that she was able to even make words come out of her mouth. He was just _so pretty._ "As much as I appreciate it, and as thrilled as I am to be here…" She quirked a brow, making sure to meet his gaze without flinching. "Why am I here, exactly?"

"Is it a crime for me to want to spend some time with you?"

"It is when you haven't in close to three years," Massie retorted, tapping her nails against the tabletop. "Why now?"

"Well, you _have_ been talking to all of my other friends, and…"

"Oh, are you jealous, Fish?"

He leaned forward, catching the straw to his Coke in between his teeth. He sipped on it, holding eye contact, and then smiled around the plastic. "And if I say I am?"

A startled, happy jolt spread up and down Massie's spine like lightning -

\- _not interested, not a date, not interested, not a date, not interested_ -

\- and she breathed as sharply and discretely through her nose as possible. Pizza dough and sauce mixed with the slightly floral scent of Drakkar Noir. She crossed her legs at the ankle, digging her knee into Cam's; she left it there, watching him lean back, and replied, "I'd say there's nothing to be jealous of."

"Nothing?" Cam mused. His hand found its way to grip that knee. "There's always something to be jealous of when Massie Block is involved."

"Only if you are a loser or an admirer," Massie returned in agreement. "I don't think you are either of those."

"I could be," Cam murmured, and it was a wonder she could hear him over the chatter of the other patrons.

"As if you'd ever be a loser, Mr. _I'm Invited To Everything_."

"Exactly," he agreed, "I'd never be a loser."

When Massie merely blinked at him, mind blank but whirling at the same time, Cam squeezed her knee again and looked at her beneath his long, totally unfair for a boy to have lashes.

The sounds around her intensified. The smells overwhelmed her. She heard what sounded like Suze Gellert yelling to Debby Weezer, could suddenly place every note in Cam's cologne, was aware of the phone ringing off the hook at the counter. The heat of Cam's palm seemed to seep all the way into her bones.

She had no words to say, no ideas to share, nothing to get her past this point. All she could so was stare at him and wonder what he really meant.

 _I could be._

 _Not interested, not a date, not interested._

 _I could be._

 _Not interested, not a date, not interested._

 _I could be._

"Well, look who it is!" the familiar voice of Kemp Hurley shouted. "Look, Ali, it's our friends, Massie and Cam! What a pleasant surprise!"

Alicia, no doubt, shushed him loudly.

The restaurant returned to focus. Massie's head no longer felt like it was full of pressure; the smells of Cam, the other people around her, and the pizza-making process no longer made her nauseous. As the other two slid into the seats beside them, Alicia on Massie's side and Kemp on Cam's, Massie felt the boy across from her link their fingers together, resting them on her leg.

 _When had her hand gotten there?_

"What a cozy little spot to sit," Alicia decided grandly, pointedly pinching the skin by Massie's elbow.

"Yes, wonderful placement," Kemp agreed just as obnoxiously. "This window provides the greatest view of the parking lot." He leaned forward and tapped Alicia on the forehead. "Would you look at that Range Rover? Magnificent."

She giggled.

Cam caught Massie's eye and then rolled his own. "How was froyo?" he asked them.

"Alicia was boring and only got low-fat strawberry," Kemp told him, "with nothing on it. Cheap froyo date."

"He made up for it," argued Alicia. "We spent, like, a half hour deciding on what toppings he wanted."

"It was more like seven, thanks," he shot back. "It's important to make sure everything about your ice cream is perfect or else it ruins the whole experience. Alicia doesn't seem to understa - _ow_ , do not _kick_ me, you heathen!"

Alicia blinked at him innocently. "A complete accident, K."

"Yeah, yeah, and I was born yesterday," he mumbled. "Anyway, how is _your_ date going?"

"It's _not_ \- " Massie started at the same time Cam said, "Good until you showed up."

"I live to disappoint, you know that," Kemp replied. "Where's the pizza?"

"Coming," answered Massie. "But there's probably not enough for all of us."

"Oh, I don't want any. I was just wondering where it was." Kemp ripped apart a napkin in front of him.

Their deliberate staring was making Massie uncomfortable, so she turned to face Cam. "So, you're coming to the party, then?"

"I wouldn't have been offended I wasn't invited if I wasn't."

"I would," Alicia supplied. "I love being invited places just so I can say no."

"You're so mean."

She flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Come on, Fish, you don't like to be included even though you have no intention of participating?"

"Sure," he replied honestly, "but not if it's something Massie's invited me to."

Kemp blinked, looked at Cam, looked at Alicia, and let out a low whistle.

Massie squeezed Cam's thumb, heart pounding in her chest, before realizing she hadn't let go of his hand under the table.

 _Not interested, not interested, not interested._

"What are you going as?" she asked him (and Kemp, she supposed), hoping to get off this topic so she could react appropriately later. After she'd thought about it over and over and over, after she'd dissected every word, glance, and gesture.

Cam shrugged. "Derrick and I always do some weird couples costume thing, but now that he's with Sadie, I'm not sure - "

Massie chugged her water to rid her mouth of its sudden dryness.

" - what about you?"

She swallowed roughly, coughed a little, and said, "You'll have to just wait and see."

" _Mystery_ ," Kemp whispered.

"Do _you_ know?" Cam demanded, whipping around to look at him.

Massie wriggled her hand out of his grasp, instantly embarrassed by how clammy her skin felt against her thigh. Had he noticed? What caused that?

Kemp answered him, but she missed the response, busy fretting over her sudden nerves. Her throat was still a little dry, so she tried to clear it, but she thought she just made it worse.

"Hey." Alicia nudged her discreetly. "You okay?"

Massie nodded, unable to say anymore due to the arrival of the tiny pizzas. It was a good thing, probably, because she wasn't even sure what she would have ended up saying anyway and if she would have wanted to say it in this company.

She recovered enough to eat and mingle as normal - or as normal as she could get in whatever state she was in - and she shared some of her pizza with Alicia.

 _Just a little bit, pleeeeeease_ , Alicia whined.

 _Should've eaten more than boring froyo_ , Kemp grumbled.

"Alright," Alicia started, dabbing her mouth with a napkin. Her green apple scented gloss left a shimmery lip print on the corner. "Thanks for letting us crash, Kemp and I are going to see a movie."

"What movie?" asked Cam.

"We don't know," Kemp replied. "We're being spontaneous." He wiggled his fingers, grinning. "As long as it's not a terribly romantic chick flick I'm down with whatever."

Alicia air-clapped. "I want to see _It_ again. That boy from _Stranger Things_ is my favorite."

"Finn Wolfhard," Massie supplied.

"Excuse you," said Alicia.

Cam snickered.

The two got up, Alicia tried to give Cam three dollars for her tiny piece of Massie's pie which he refused, and Kemp recommended they order dessert - _the nutella is so good, guys, do it_ \- and then they were gone, Kemp trying to trip Alicia as they exited and meandered down the street.

Massie watched them go until they were gone and still kept staring at the corner in which they turned. She'd been ferociously fighting with herself this entire time she was here, insisting that she only cared about her hair and her outfit and her sweaty palms because she had an _image_ to maintain. This was _not_ a date. _Not_ a date.

And yet…

The arrival of Kemp and Alicia disappointed her, and now she felt bad for crashing Alicia and Plovert's similar not-date pizza-date.

This was not a date - it wasn't - but Massie did not get enough of Cam's time to herself. Which… that was partially her fault. She'd spent, like, fifteen minutes trying to get her shirt to sit just so in the bathroom, and then she was late to get there because she was an idiot and _walked_ , and then she hid in the bathroom _again_ , and then Kemp and Alicia arrived, and… and…

 _What did any of this mean?_

He sighed, running a hand through his short dark hair. "Uh," he began; Massie felt her sweat glands act up again. "Our friends are super annoying, aren't they?"

Massie grabbed her ponytail, thankful for its length, and ran her fingers through it over and over. His gaze was unnerving, the pinch of his brows confusing, and the pursing of his lips looking oddly kissable.

Before her mouth could catch up with her head, which was full of blaring sirens, warning her _do not do not do not_ , she blurted, "Did you want this to be a date?"

Cam did not hesitate in his answer. "This is my _date_ sweater, Massie."

"Cam, I'm being _serious_."

"Massie, so am I." He matched her tone - earnest and careful - though he managed to, you know, not have his voice waver like hers ( _what the fuck, Massie?_ ). "I should have been more specific, I guess."

"Like… like… a _date_ -date?"

He smiled at her, soft and warm, and Massie understood why Claire had always been so crazy about him. The guilt set in again at the thought of her friend; even though she pretended - to herself, to Alicia, to Cam - she knew what this was. Knew what she wanted it to be.

She guessed that even though she grew up and out of the soccer boys at Briarwood, her heart was stuck in seventh grade.

 _Makes sense_ , she thought, _because here I am. Again._

"Do you know any other kinds of dates, Mass?"

"Uh, plenty," she answered, though she didn't. "Friendship dates, and froyo dates, and movie dates, and this thing we're on now, a pizza date - "

"Most of those things are date-dates," he interrupted. "And this would have been one, too, if I'd been more explicit in my asking, but you really wanted to hang the phone up…"

Again, her mouth started moving before she gave it permission. "I don't think you needed to be anything more than you were," she said, "and of course I wanted to hang up, _Claire_ was there - "

"I thought I was on speaker." He chuckled. "I don't care if Claire was there or not, though. I called to talk to _you_."

"Right." Massie swallowed, hating herself for sounding so insecure and confused. It wasn't like she didn't have experience with boys. "But, like, I know what this is."

He cocked his head to the side, taking her in. "Then why'd you ask what this was?"

Massie twisted the ring around her finger. "Just trying to figure out if I was the only one who felt disappointed by how it went."

"No, I am, too," he told her. "How about this: we get this nutella pizza Kemp was raving about, never tell our friends our plans again, and have a redo?"

"As long as you don't consider Dylan's party a date," Massie agreed, "I'm all for it."

Cam rolled his eyes. "Of course I don't," he replied, "who do you think I am? We can do something like this again, but maybe I'll take you to an actual restaurant?"

"How about we go get sushi?" she suggested, letting go of her hands. "It's more casual. Won't make us feel… I dunno, weird, or anything."

"Two weeks from now?"

"Two weeks from now." Massie nodded.

"Awesome," Cam said, and he pushed his elbows into the tabletop, lifted himself up, brushed his thumb along the side of Massie's face, and pressed his mouth to the corner of hers.

If she had moved just a fraction of a centimeter, he would have gotten her lips directly, but she didn't.

* * *

 **a/n** : edited very quickly. apologies for any mistakes.

next chapter will be dylan's surprise halloween costume party. i have plans to incorporate all the girls' povs and potentially some of the boys. we'll see where the wind takes me. but i promise this will probably have some of the things you are looking for. if not, don't forget we have the Actual halloween party aka ripple's birthday party - and that one will give us _eeeee_ verything we want ;)

thank you for all the lovely (and long!) reviews. keep 'em coming!


	8. If I Could Turn Back Time

**a/n** : so before you even ask... this party is split in two chapters. here, you'll get a taste of dylan and kristen (+ others). next chapter will be dedicated to massie, alicia, and claire, and you'll get some massie/josh friendship action, i promise.

i tried to explain some of their past relationships and issues, so i hope i did it justice. there's a part where kristen is thinking about text messages, so to clarify: _**Cam is in bold and italics,** Kristen is in italics._

let me know what y'all think, i've had a really rough week at work and reviews would be nice~

* * *

 _If I could turn back time  
_ _If I could find a way  
_ _I'd take back those words that hurt you  
_ _And you'd stay  
_ \- "If I Could Turn Back Time," Cher

.

 **YOU'RE INVITED TO…**

 **DYLAN MARVIL'S SURPRISE HALLOWEEN COSTUME BIRTHDAY PARTY**

 _When_ : Friday, September 29th, 8PM  
 _Where_ : The Block Estate  
 _No costume, no entrance  
Spooky drinks at a first come, first serve basis - BYOB_

** DO NOT TELL DYLAN  
** IF SHE FINDS OUT ABOUT THIS, WE WILL DESTROY YOU

.

Massie slapped Josh's hand away from the tortilla chips surrounding the seven layer bean dip on the island in her kitchen. "Not yet."

.

Claire rolled her eyes. "Put a shirt on, Hurley."

"Patrick Star only wears shorts," he retorted. "Move it, Baby."

.

" _Luuuuuuh-_ v the dress, Mass!" Skye air-kissed the young alpha's cheeks. "Posh is _soooo_ you."

Massie fake-smiled, returning the compliment though she was sincere. Skye rocked her Black Canary costume: skintight leather leotard, fishnets, and some sort of gun that she had tucked into her boot. She also seemed to have been very heavy-handed on the drinks she'd pregamed with.

.

"My hair is deflating!" Alicia whined. "Fix it!"

.

Chris Plovert plugged Massie's high-end hair curler into the outlet by Inez's favorite mixer, upped the heat, grabbed Alicia's hair, and starting curling.

Kemp blinked at him, smirking behind a cup of Massie's Almond Joy martini. It tasted just as the name promised.

"What?" Chris snapped. "I have a sister!"

"I need _volume_ ," Alicia insisted, tugging on Chris' suspenders. "Vol. Ume."

"I get it," he said. "Somebody get me some hairspray over here!"

.

 _ **Massie Block**_ : Go time.  
 _ **Kristen Gregory**_ : kay  
 _ **Derrick Harrington**_ : thank god i've been sitting in my car for 20 minutes  
 _ **Massie Block**_ : how sad, im crying for u  
 _ **Derrick Harrington**_ : eye roll emoji

.

 _ **Massie Block**_ : did derrick rly type out "eye roll emoji"  
 _ **Kristen Gregory**_ : lmao yes

* * *

 _Why does Kristen want me to wear this?_

 _Where are we going?_

Dylan pivoted, checking out the size of her butt in her mirror. It looked fine to her, but she still managed to feel like her entire body was bursting out of this sequined Union Jack minidress. It wasn't, though, because the outfit itself was a little big on her - just the way she liked it. Maybe it was just confusion and anxiety spurring her insecurities. She still had no idea why she was in this to begin with, but it reminded her of something.

"Hey, loser, your ass is fine. Get a move on."

"Derrick?" Dylan questioned, looking at him from upside down. "What are you doing here? And why are you wearing _that_?"

"I'm your ride." Derrick crossed his arms over his skin-tight orange Under Armor. "And I just came from practice, don't judge me."

Dylan straightened. "It's Friday, you don't have practice, and orange is not one of our school colors."

"Uh, when we have a game coming up, yeah, we do, and not everything I own is navy and burgundy?" He scoffed, tossing his head. He did that a lot, even though he cut his hair shorter and there wasn't anything in his face anymore. Reflex, Dylan guessed. "Who put you in charge of the Fashion Police?"

"Are you wearing _tights_?"

"I don't have to answer to you." Derrick sniffed. "Are you ready yet?"

"Depends." Dylan tore her gaze away from his stunningly sculpted arm muscles to look at her reflection once more. The makeup Kristen applied for her made her green eyes pop, all smoky black and rose. Her lips were lined just enough to make them the teensiest bit bigger than they actually were. "Where are you taking me?"

Derrick huffed out an exasperated sigh and checked his watch. "You'll find out when we get there, Marv."

The door to her bathroom flung open as she was deciding between A) whining until he spilled or B) chastising him for using a nickname she hated. Kristen emerged, hair swinging from the top of her head, abs on full display in her tiny cropped shirt.

"Hey, KGreg."

"Oh, hey, Derrick," Kristen greeted easily, shoving her feet into a pair of sneakers Dylan had never seen her wear before. "Were you waiting long?"

He shook his head.

"Good. Sorry," she said, pulling up her pants, looking like a boy about to play basketball in the nineties. Did they rip off at the knee, too? "I'll be just one more second…"

Kristen rummaged through her overnight bag - she was supposed to have been sleeping over before she changed their sundaes and movie marathon plans - and Derrick signalled in mock-irritation for Dylan to force her feet into a pair of red platform boots. Their extreme heel, despite its bulkiness, made her stumble as she got up, and Derrick reached out to keep her from falling flat on her face.

"Alright." Kristen sounded breathless. "I'm ready. Let's go."

"But where are we going?" Dylan demanded, gripping her phone tight in one hand and using the other to flip the lights off as they left her room.

Silence met her words while they descended her staircase, said their goodbyes to her mother, and exited the house. They would have made it all the way to Derrick's car in a matter of seconds had she not stopped where she was, planted her feet firmly into the walkway, and asked _again_.

"I won't move," she continued, "until you tell me where we're going. I'll make you stand here all night - "

"Oh, no, you won't. I'm on a schedule." Derrick grunted as he wrapped his arms around Dylan's middle, hoisted her up, and tossed her over his shoulder as carelessly as he would carry his schoolbag. "Into the car, you go, D."

"Let me go and tell me where we're going!" the redhead shrieked, punching at his back. "If you don't tell me, I'll scream."

"You're already screaming," he pointed out, tossing her in the backseat. "Who cares?"

Dylan crossed her arms and pouted, looking at the reflection of her gloss in the window. Kristen climbed into the passenger seat, plugged the aux cord into her phone, and scrolled through her music. _Say You'll Be There_ by the Spice Girls blared from the BMW's reworked soundsystem. Derrick winced as he backed out of the driveway, leaning over to lower the volume; Kristen slapped his hand away.

" _My_ car, Gregory."

" _My_ music, Harrington."

"We can change that pretty quickly." He flicked his turn signal to the right. "You alright back there?" he asked Dylan, glancing into his mirror.

She huffed again. "I want to know where we are going!"

"She's a pretty well-behaved hostage," Derrick said to Kristen. "She got in the outfit and everything."

"I like to dress up," Dylan snapped, "and don't talk about me like I'm not here."

And so they didn't talk at all: Derrick hijacked the music, changing it from nineties pop to modern rap, which Kristen and Dylan did not appreciate, and before long, he was parking on a dimly-lit road in what looked like the middle of nowhere.

" _Where are we_?" Dylan asked, looking left and right, gripping the hem of her dress. She didn't recognize any of these houses, or these cars, and she had no recollection of making any plans that would require her to leave Westchester. And they hadn't been in the car long enough for them to leave… "Oh my _god_ , are you guys going to kill me?"

"If only," Derrick murmured wistfully. "Come on, Marv. Live a little."

"I want to live _ah-lot_!" she retorted, ignoring his outstretched hand. "I won't leave the car until you tell me where we are."

He rolled his eyes. "No."

"Kristen!"

"Nope." Her blond best friend giggled, sharing a look with Derrick. "If it helps, though… you _have_ been here before."

"No, I haven't," Dylan insisted. "What street even is this?"

"We should have just blindfolded her," Derrick said.

"Might have been easier," agreed Kristen, "but here we are."

"Come on, Dyl," Derrick pleaded, "it's cold out. All your questions will be answered when we get there."

She shot him a skeptical look, muttered, "Who told you to wear shorts and tights?" and slid out of the car, allowing them to lead her to wherever it was they were planning on killing her. Because that's what was happening. Her two best friends had conspired together, decided they hated her, sided with Massie and Alicia and Chris and Kemp, and were going to slit her throat and let her bleed out in the woods.

None of that explained this outfit, but it was the only logical thing she could think of.

Kristen looped her arm through Dylan's, creating a false sense of security, probably trying to ease Dylan's worries, and led her to an ivy-covered gate that was nestled in between rows of immaculately trimmed bushes. Derrick took up the rear, most likely there to ensure Dylan could not get away.

The latch made a kissing noise when Kristen pushed against it, and they were walking through someone's dark backyard… an odd place to kill her, but what did Dylan know? She wasn't a sociopath.

She surveyed the area around her, searching for an exit.

The pool to her left was covered up for the winter, a pool house and what looked like an old stable a bit further back, eerie in the dark. On her right, and much, much, much more secluded from the main house - though not too much - was a smaller version of the looming estate. It had its own driveway. The lights were on, a modest sedan was parked out front, and a statue of some sort of animal was situated in the middle of a fountain, spouting water into the nippy night sky.

"Wait a second," she started.

Kristen tightened her hold on her arm and sped up. Sparing a look behind her, Dylan noticed Derrick was texting.

" _Wait_!" Dylan snapped.

They didn't.

"I don't get it," she said, trying to pull herself away from Kristen. "Why are we here? Did Massie put you up to this? Is _she_ going to kill me?"

"No one is going to kill you," Derrick hissed at her. "Stop being so fucking dramatic."

"Then why are we at Massie's!" she shot back. "We aren't talking, she doesn't like me, I don't care what her Instagram said, it was all just for show, _why_ \- "

Kristen forced open the back door with her foot, the lights went on, and the next thing Dylan knew -

" _SURPRISE_!"

\- she wasn't dying.

Massie did like her. The Instagram wasn't for show.

An adorable homemade "HAPPY BIRTHDAY DYLAN" banner hung from the Blocks' kitchen ceiling. Dozens of faces beamed at her, all dressed as outrageously, if not more, than Derrick and herself. Red cups and punch bowls lined the countertops. It smelled of top shelf alcohol and their favorite pizzeria hangout. And right there, in the center of it all, was Massie, Alicia, and Claire, dressed as Posh, Scary, and Baby Spice respectively.

Suddenly the British flag on her dress, the song in the car, and the chorus of _Wannabe_ changing the beat of her racing heart made sense.

"Oh my god!" she shouted. It was just a second too late, but it didn't matter; everyone was laughing at her reaction. "Oh my god," she said again, not sure what to look at. Layne Abeley and her friends (invited only to please Claire, probably) dressed as Josie and the Pussycats near the nachos and bean dip? Skye Hamilton and her group, who looked to be iconic female supervillians and heroes? Josh, in only a pair of patterned swim trunks and a headband with red pipe cleaners attached to it?

She elected for her friends - because they were her friends, weren't they? She didn't need an apology when she got _this_ \- and smothered them in a hug, not caring if she was too overexcited or her nerves made her pits stink.

Massie's charm bracelet dug into her side as she returned the gesture, and the smell of Angel perfume invaded her nostrils, and Claire's hair got stuck in her mouth. She felt Kristen come up behind her, and Dylan was sandwiched in between her favorite people.

Somewhere behind her, Derrick was joined by Josh, who offered him a beer. "You look like you need this," the latter said.

"Thanks." Derrick knocked back half in one go. "Girls, man."

Josh tutted like he understood.

"You did this?" Dylan asked. It was the first time she'd looked at Massie straight on in weeks. Her eyeliner was perfect. So was her hair. "For me?"

"Well, yeah." Massie picked at the lace of her tiny dress. "You were really upset about the Ripple thing, so I thought…"

Dylan smiled so hard she thought her face might crack.

"Look, Dyl," Massie began, "I'm really sorry about everything that went - "

"No." The other gripped Massie's hand and squeezed. " _I'm_ sorry. To both of you." She turned to look at Alicia, wide eyes and tanned face surrounded by curls unrulier than Dylan's own. "I shouldn't have acted the way I did. Doing what I did was so wrong. We went through this already: we can't control each other. We can only be there for each other, no matter what's going on."

"We should have talked about it first," Massie replied. "We shouldn't have sprung that on you. I shouldn't have lied."

Dylan nodded. "There are a lot of things we shouldn't have done," she agreed, "but I say we put that in the past. It's not everyday you get to celebrate Halloween in September."

"Or your birthday," Claire added.

" _Or_ my birthday. Hey," Dylan yelled over the noise, "whoever's in charge of music, put that Spice Girls song back on!"

.

 _ **jotz**_ (30m)  
 _random girl: "so are you a lifeguard or something?"  
me: "I'm Larry the lobster, bitch."_

 _ **jotz  
**_ replying to _**jotz**_  
 _What uncultured swine  
_ 89 retweets / 15 likes

.

"Oh my god," Kristen mumbled under her breath, forcing herself in between a gyrating couple and cutting their dance short. They glared at her, foreheads beaded with sweat, eyes glassy. "Sorry. I'm just trying to…"

She didn't finish her sentence, patted the boy on the shoulder a little too aggressively, and ducked out of the way again, using yet another nauseating pair as cover. She was being a little overdramatic, probably; he hadn't even seen her, hadn't expressed interest in talking to her even in the slightest, but she needed to lose sight of him immediately.

Kristen kept her legs in a squat, brought her cup to her mouth, and drank the rest of her Stoli and cream soda in one swallow. It was sweet like a muffin and gave her the strength (or stupidity) she needed to race through Massie's living room and to the den, where she would be safe for the time being.

She made it halfway there when she heard her name being called.

Her heart thumped in her chest, skipping a beat and revving, skipping a beat and revving, and she slowly turned, expecting the worst. Expecting army green eyes, and dimpled cheeks, and a permatan, and a godawful, but somehow fitting, Tarzan Halloween costume.

"Kristen, hey!"

And that's exactly what she got.

She was thrust back in time at just one look of his face. Just a few weeks ago, those lips that were curling into a (quite frankly) delectable smile had been all over hers, biting and licking and…

Kristen shook herself out, shoved her thumbs in the waistband of her pants, and met his gaze as coolly as she could. "Hey, Dempsey," she greeted. "Nice costume."

His gaze raked over her body, making Kristen feel like she was nothing but a slab of meat at the butcher's. She dug her fingernails into her hips. How had she ever hooked up with this guy? How had Massie ever been interested in him?

She only had an answer for the first question: _She was drunk_. She always made terrible decisions when she was drunk.

"You too," the boy murmured, taking an appreciative step forward.

Kristen shuffled backwards, slamming into a something hard and fleshy. A hand gripped her shoulder, squeezed, and her breath hitched in her throat. Dempsey didn't have one of his friends behind her to make sure she didn't run, did he? But then the familiarity of the person's cologne engulfed her senses and she felt herself relax considerably.

"Solomon," he greeted, a growl that had the hair on the back of her neck standing up and sent shivers down her spine. "Enjoying the party?"

"I was," the other boy answered, clipped and angry, "until you got here, _Fish_." There was animosity in the way he said his name, more so than Kristen expected from two people on sports teams with quote, unquote _friendly_ rivalries.

Cam chuckled darkly. "Harassing girls is fun for you now?" he asked. "And here I thought the football team couldn't get any worse."

"Like the soccer team is any better," Dempsey spat back.

"Do you see us drugging girls at our parties?" Cam demanded. "Forcing them into corners so they'd talk to us?" He slipped away from Kristen and stood in front of her, a barrier between her body and Dempsey's.

"I was just _talking_ to her."

"Yeah?" Cam countered. "It kind of looked like she was running from you to me."

Dempsey scoffed. "She wasn't _running_ ," he argued. "Last time we were at a party together - "

"I made out with you once!" Kristen interrupted, forcing herself around Cam. "That doesn't _mean_ \- "

"Leave her alone, Solomon, yeah?"

"Last I checked you didn't have a monopoly on the girls here."

Cam scratched his ear and if Kristen remembered his tells correctly, this meant he was starting to get upset. (As if he wasn't already.) He pushed himself forward, palm out behind him to ensure Kristen was still there, and hissed something at Dempsey that made his cheeks redden and his eyes narrow. She could hardly hear him, but she knew she probably wouldn't like what he said.

"I think you've gotten yourself confused, Fisher," Dempsey replied loudly. "Sounds like you're trying to be Harrington here, but it's not working, and I'm not scared of either of you."

"Well, you should be," another voice said. Kristen didn't have to move a muscle to know it was Derrick. "You okay?" he asked of Kristen.

She nodded, flicking her gaze from him as he reached out to grab the back of Cam's red long-sleeve. He curled his fingers around it, brushing a thumb against the skin of Cam's neck. "I can take care of myself, you know," she reminded them.

"I know that," Derrick told her, "but Cam sometimes… he gets a little aggressive."

"Yeah." Kristen crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't appreciate it."

" _Scram_ ," Derrick ordered Dempsey, "calm down," he said to Cam, pulling him back and forcing him into Kristen's unwilling embrace. She held on to him for the sole purpose of keeping herself upright. Derrick was a lot stronger than he gave himself credit for, probably.

"And," he added menacingly, loud enough for everyone in the vicinity to hear, "if I _ever_ catch you near one of _our_ girls again, we'll have some serious problems."

There was sudden whispering coming from Kristen's left, where Cookie Holson and her group of sexy Teletubbies ( _uh, gross_ ) were mingling with a couple dressed to the exact likeness of denim JT and Britney.

 _Our girls_?

Dempsey seemed to have the same idea. He threw his head back and cackled. "You're claiming the Pretty Committee again?" he demanded.

" _Claiming_?" Kristen squawked indignantly. She was not some sort of prize to be won, or a material item, or - or - _claiming_?

But no one seemed to hear her, and Derrick snapped, "Who says we stopped?"

 _You did_ , Kristen wanted to say. _You did! When you forced all of your friends to stop hanging out with us because your feelings got hurt, because you don't listen, because you are somehow just like Massie used to be but worse, because some stupid boy that meant nothing made you feel threatened -_

Cam rested his chin on the top of Kristen's head, apparently calm once again. Her ponytail dug into her scalp. "Hey," he said. "Sorry."

"It's fine," she said, though she wasn't sure it was. Her head was spinning. _What did any of this mean?_

He swallowed. She felt his Adam's apple bob against her hair. "Did I… did I overstep?" he whispered, sounding oddly self-conscious. "Is there, like, something going on with you and Dempsey?"

"No."

"Good," he said sternly. "You're better than that."

"What makes you say that?" she asked softly, her hand snaking up to grip his elbow.

He shrugged, reaching his arms around to hug her to his chest. Kristen sighed, closed her eyes, and wondered how drunk he was. How drunk _she_ was. This wouldn't be happening if they weren't; she'd made her peace with Cam forever ago, was never prepared to become friends with him again. Never anticipated it.

 _Then again_ , she thought, she'd never once considered Massie going against her own ruling. Never considered that Dylan would be the one to get so upset.

Never considered Cam _and_ Derrick would come to her defense. Not when they hadn't spoken two words to her outside of classes in years.

"I missed you," he said instead of providing an answer.

She hiccupped, nodded, and was hit with an onslaught of memories. Her mouth tasted like dessert. Her heart hurt. She remembered the last time they spoke - if you could call a series of text messages he never responded to "talking..."

 ** _look  
Claire just isn't very comfortable with our friendship  
I know it makes no sense but I told her I would try harder to acknowledge and listen to her concerns  
and Kris I really want to make this work with her  
I love her  
so I don't think we should talk anymore_**

 _do you Cam?_

 _do you love her  
does she even love you_

 _or is this just convenient for both of you_

 _Cam_

 _?_

 _fine  
bye _

He didn't need to know she cried herself to sleep for three nights until she finally pulled her head out of her ass and threw herself into her studies. Now she was at the top of their class, already nominated to be Valedictorian next year, could go to college _right now_ if she wanted to. She was captain of the soccer team, Treasurer of the Student Council, and she did not need Cam Fisher to go back to being her best friend.

But despite all that, despite the fact that she was kind of angry about whatever happened here, despite the fact that she still didn't understand why Claire didn't trust her, Kristen blurted, "I missed you too."

Cam squeezed her.

"I dunno what the fuck this is," Derrick announced, breaking through this weird trance Kristen seemed to be in and eyeing them curiously, "but I'm done here." He shot his thumb back to where Dempsey was still standing, pissed off and thoroughly cockblocked. "Let's go find the rest of the Spice Girls."

"You better watch your back, Harrington!" Dempsey shouted as they slipped past sweaty bodies and sticky spots of spilled drinks. Thankfully the couches were removed and all the valuables were put upstairs, where no one (unless you were part of the Pretty Committee) was allowed.

Derrick merely flipped him off, not bothering to turn around.

Cam grabbed Kristen's wrist and pulled her after him.

They couldn't find any of (their?) friends in the den, or the kitchen, or the foyer. Skye Hamilton was holding court on the staircase, Danny Robbins and other football players leaning against the railings as if they were too cool to even be there, though they were listening intently to whatever the willowy blond said.

Derrick was stopped by Sadie, his girlfriend - Kristen still did _not_ get that - who whispered something that made him roll his eyes, squeezed his cheeks together, and kissed him right smack on the mouth.

He patted her head affectionately, Kristen thought, and then wiped his lips on the back of his hand.

"I hate cherry," he mumbled.

Cam snorted.

"What is she supposed to be?" asked Kristen, pushing herself onto her tiptoes to search the crowd for the girls. It was weird and kind of unnerving to be near these boys again; it felt like Kristen had finally shed a skin she never fit in. She felt oddly comfortable. Comfortable but also naked.

Stripped down.

Vulnerable.

"Rachel from _Friends_ ," said Derrick. "Saylene is Monica."

"Cute."

Kristen led the way this time, peeking into rooms with their doors closed. The Pretty Committee was not in the pantry, or the laundry room, or one of William's three studies, but they _were_ in the dining room.

Josh was arguing with Claire over something, tugging on her pigtails. Kemp and Alicia were sitting on the table, feet swinging, a bottle of whipped Pinnacle in between them. In the corner, Dylan was listening to Plovert, who looked earnest and apologetic, and was squeezing her hand in his. And Massie… Massie was -

"You've gotta be shitting me," Derrick muttered. "What is _Landon Crane_ doing here?"

.

 _ **lyonsroar**_ _posted a new photo  
i'll tell you what i want, what i really really want #PreHalloween #HBDDylan  
_311 likes / view all 11 comments  
 **tlyons** _wow massie looks really good here  
_ **lyonsroar** _wow thanks todd_ _ **tlyons  
**_ **kgreg** _ow owwwwwww  
_ **aleesharivera** _hair by_ _ **cplov47**_

.

"Hey, Dylan?" Plovert asked tentatively, reaching a hand to fix his glasses before realizing he'd put his contacts in for the night. "Uh, can we - can we talk?"

Dylan looked at him with that vacant, kind of mean, model stare the Pretty Committee used when walking down the hallway and considered punching him. But that would turn into so much more than it was, probably, and she didn't want to cause any drama. Not tonight. Not ever again, if she could help it.

So instead of flipping her long red mane over her shoulder and having him talk to her booty, she nodded.

"Great." Chris' smile could probably outshine all the stars in the sky. Dylan hated it. "Can we go somewhere more private?"

She didn't have a chance to answer before he was gripping her (sweaty) palm and pulling her out of the room. The party hit them full force once more, and Dylan was bombarded with a series of _Happy Birthday_ s and _I wish my friends would do this for me_ s and _Spice Girls is iconic!_ s. Plovert politely allowed Dylan to interact with all these people, to receive their compliments, before he was dragging her away again.

He forced himself in between the DSL Daters and the stars of the football team.

"Hey!" Danny Robbins snapped, irritated with the interruption before he realized who it was. "Oh, happy birthday, Dylan, have you seen Alicia around?"

Skye shot both Danny and Dylan a withering glare, as if to say _don't answer that_.

Chris stiffened at the sound of the Latina's name. Dylan pretended not to notice and answered, "No," even though she knew Alicia's exact location. She did not trust this boy; he was too pretty for his own good.

"Don't be an idiot," Becca Brie hissed at him. "Dylan and Alicia aren't talking because of…" Her blue eyes fell on Chris, who met her gaze steadily. "Because of this kid, actually. And the other one, his friend."

Heidi Sprout scoffed. "Don't pretend like you don't know their names, Bec," she retorted, giggling.

"Besides," Skye chimed in, shooting the two eleventh graders a Cheshire cat-like grin. "That was so three hours ago, right? The _Pwetty_ " - her childlike lisp here was no accident - "Committee had that big hug sesh in the kitchen earlier. They're all made up."

" _Aaaaand_ ," added Missy Cambridge, Skye's annoying second-in-command, "it looks like this kid picked Dylan over Alicia, which… that's weird, I think, but what do I know? Happy birthday." Her voice came out like a purr towards the end. Dylan shuddered.

"Yep, you caught me." Chris rolled his eyes. "A pleasure as always, ladies," he dismissed, stepping around Missy's Catwoman whip. "Fellas… not so much. Please return to your regularly scheduled programming."

"Nice ass, Marvil," one of the boys hooted.

"Watch it, Samuels," Plovert snarled, whacking the boy on the back of the head.

Samuels snorted, hardly averting his gaze as Dylan stomped up past him. "Good hit, Spongebob. Did you dress up with your boyfriends because you guys can't get any girls?"

"Captain America does not fit in with whatever theme you've got going on here," Chris snipped, gripping Dylan's arm a tad tighter.

Dylan shifted, fighting around a grimace - Chris was accidentally pinching her.

"Harrington's got a girlfriend, doesn't he?" P.J. Levine asked.

"Yeah," Danny Robbins said smarmily. He cocked his head to the side, gaze flicking up Dylan's legs. "But she's really nothing special."

"Hey," Chris snapped, whacking Danny's shoulder as he passed. "Not cool, man."

"We all know he can do better," Danny commented lightly. "In fact, I believe he has."

"Shut _up_ ," Chris hissed.

Danny must've sensed Chris's hackles raising and pressed himself against Massie's stairwell, pushing himself to his full height. He flicked his hair out of his face, considered Chris in all of his suspender and tie glory, and was immediately shot down by Skye's raspy command.

"Drop it, Dan."

"Listen to your mom," Chris mocked, stomping up the stairs.

Dylan followed, tucking her skirt over her butt as she did so. She could still feel the leers from the boys on the football team and she wondered, not for the first time, why Skye and the DSL Daters hung around such scum.

Then again, they were the same group of girls that based their worth on the amount of boys they kissed… unless that changed when they got to high school, too. The number of bangles around the girls' wrists seemed to triple in size - were those for kisses? Or something else?

She shivered, pressing herself closer to Chris. He tucked her into his side, made a beeline for Massie's room - how did he know where it was? - and slammed the door shut behind them.

"Sorry about that." He scratched the back of his neck, kicking at the corner of Massie's purple throw rug.

"Not your fault," said Dylan, perching herself on the end of Massie's bed. Would she be mad they were in here?

Chris looked at her, and without his glasses, his eyes somehow looked bigger. Dylan could see his every lash from where she was sitting. She wiped her hands on Massie's comforter, remembering the last time she and Chris had been alone. It had been years ago, and she had thought… but once again she'd been wrong. All he could talk about back then was Alicia…

 _Dyl, I really want to give you my present before I go._

 _Go?_

 _Alicia needs me, something happened at the football -_

 _It's my birthday, Chris._

 _We can celebrate just me and you some other time? Alicia -_

 _\- yeah, she needs you, I get it. Not like she's ever needed you before._

 _What?_

 _Nothing._

He didn't need to know his gift was the most thoughtful she'd received that year, right after the Pretty Committee's and leagues ahead of her mother's. He didn't need to know she still used them, didn't let anyone else touch them.

He didn't need to know that while he'd broken her heart, he was the only one she wanted when Kemp decided to fuck her sisters.

"Look, Dylan," he started around a sigh. Chris crossed the room in two long strides, stopping only when his knees bumped against hers. He smelled like woodsy cologne and one of Massie's sweet alcoholic beverages.

She didn't know what overcame her when she asked, "Aren't you cold?"

Chris's lips twitched. "I'm wearing more clothes than you," he pointed out.

"And a tie."

"And a tie," he agreed. He blinked down at her, pink-cheeked and adorable, and Dylan felt insignificant in her party dress. Very un-Ginger Spice-like. "Okay," he began again, "I know you hate me - "

"I don't _hate_ you." She scoffed.

"Well… I know you haven't always liked me," he said instead, "and I don't blame you. I'm… I'm a dick - "

"No, Derrick's a dick. You're just a really big asshole."

"Right." He nodded. "It's just… I don't… I don't know what I did?"

"You don't know what you did," Dylan repeated flatly.

"To get to this point." He gestured between the two of them. "To make us this way. You were, like, the closest thing I had to a sister, Dyl. I mean, I have one, but... you were the one I actually wanted."

Sometimes Dylan didn't know what was worse: being called 'Dyl' or 'Marv.'

Or a sister.

Always the sister.

What could she say, though? You didn't like me back? I thought I wanted to kiss you and you wanted to kiss Alicia? I'm over-dramatic, and whiny, and kind of entitled? I thought you were _mine_ , and nobody else's?

She couldn't say any of those things. Not when she had been exclusively with Kemp, not him. Not when she had just gotten _yelled at_ by that very same boy when she tried to claim him. Kemp wasn't hers. Chris wasn't hers. She had no right to be upset because of the truth. No right to try to own them both like a pair of jeans. Especially when they were owned by Alicia when it really came down to it.

Dylan shrugged. "A combination of a lot of things, I guess."

"Yeah, well." Chris frowned, obviously not liking her answer. "Whatever I did to contribute to that, I'm sorry. I don't ever want to be the reason you feel badly again."

"Right. Me either."

"And I think… I'm not really sure… but. Like. We're trying this again? All of us? Maybe?" Chris gnawed on the inside of his cheek, looking past her but somehow through her at the same time. "Being friends," he offered up. "Even if they don't want to, but I think they do… it shouldn't just be me, Kemp, Leesh, and Mass, you know? I want - I want to be friends with you too."

Dylan blinked. "Friends?"

He nodded, looking sheepish. "I know we can't go back to the way it was before - "

"The girls and I do it all the time," she told him, crossing her ankles. "We have all these big fights but when we make up it's kind of like nothing ever happened." She paused, thinking about it. "Most of the time."

"So are you saying…?"

"Seems like you have a new almost sister in Massie, though." Dylan tried to keep the jealousy out of her tone, but she was sure it was obvious, and the look on Chris's face confirmed her suspicions.

"I have room for five new almost sisters," he replied. "You'll be the most important one obviously."

"Obviously," she drawled, raising an eyebrow. "I'm not gonna fight them over you."

Chris grinned. "Not even if I want you to?"

"Especially not if you want me to," she said.

He pulled his hands out of his pockets. "Does this mean we can be friends again?"

"You're so bad at apologizing it's pathetic, Christopher," Dylan returned evenly, meeting his stare. "It means you are on probation. And don't think I actually _want_ to be friends with you. I want to be friends with _my_ friends and they'll probably want to stay friends with you - god knows _why_ \- and I'm kind of sick of fighting with them, so…" She lifted a shoulder in a _what can you do?_ sort of way.

His smile got wider. "Works for me!" he trilled, wrapping his arms around her and squeezing her to his chest. "You'll see, Dyl, we'll be thick as thieves in no time."

"Someone's gonna have to tell Derrick," she pointed out.

"Who cares about Derrick?" he demanded. "Hug me _baaaaack._ "

"No," she said, but she found herself going through the motions anyway.

And that was how Derrick and Alicia found them, Dylan burying her face in his collarbone and trying her hardest not to cry (though she wasn't sure why she was fighting tears in the first place), and Chris trying not to choke on her hair (forcibly straightened by Kristen).

"What the _fuck_ ," Derrick bleated.

Dylan wriggled away from Chris, surreptitiously patting at the skin beneath her left eye. "Dude," she breathed when she caught sight of the boy's face, "what happened to you?"

Alicia rolled her eyes and shoved the frozen bag of peas back in Derrick's hands. "He's an idiot."

"Danny Robbins punched me in the face," he answered, giving Alicia the vegetables back. "I don't need that."

"You're _bleeding_."

"Hardly."

"There is literal blood coming out of your nose."

"As opposed to figurative blood?"

" _Derrick_."

" _Alicia_."

"Why did Danny Robbins punch you in the face?"

Derrick caught Chris's eye, seemed to have an entire conversation in a just a blink, then shrugged.

"You don't _know_?" Dylan demanded, hands on her hips. "Get over here."

"No."

"De- _rrick_."

" _Dyl_ -an."

"Ahhhhhh-licia!" The Latina threw her arms in the arm and shimmied, face alight and relaxed despite the oddly tense situation. It was probably all the alcohol. Chris couldn't stop staring at her.

Derrick snorted, crossing his arms over his chest.

Dylan frowned at him, licking her lips. "Why," she started slowly, patiently, realizing she was dealing with drunk Derrick, who was aggressive Derrick, who was macho man Derrick and somehow sad Derrick all wrapped up into one. She decided to treat him like a five year old. Or a pet cat. "Why did you get punched in the face?"

He raised his brows. "I punched him first," he supplied, but that was all.

"I think it was because he tried to touch my butt," Alicia offered, finger-combing her hair in Massie's dressing room-inspired mirror. "Chris, my hair is flat again."

"He tried to touch mine, too," Dylan said. "Or something. He looked at it. They all did."

"I left the curler downstairs," Chris told Alicia.

"Danny Robbins is a fucking idiot," Derrick declared, dropping down on Massie's computer chair. "I didn't need a reason to hit him, if I'm being honest."

Alicia looked at him, frowned, and stuck her face in his. "I still think it's because he tried to touch my butt," she told him seriously, noses practically touching. "I would have allowed it, I think."

"Don't," Derrick snapped, a rough command without any of the bite. It was hard to be mean to Alicia's pretty face when it was _right there_. Her level of perfection was intimidating up close; Dylan knew from experience.

Alicia blinked, annoyance flashing over her features. It was gone before it could make itself at home, though, partially because this was Alicia and she didn't actually care and partially because Derrick lifted his hand to tenderly tuck one of her curls behind her ear. "Okay," she said simply.

His mouth, bruised and swollen, twisted smugly.

Chris merely looked nauseous. Dylan hoped he didn't vomit on Massie's white rug. She'd hate that.

"You let me know if he comes near you again, Dyl," Derrick began, louder this time. More authoritative, like he was being that brother she didn't want, the one their siblings forced her to have. "I'll take care of it."

She scoffed. "I can spread a nasty rumor just as easily as you can."

Derrick matched her tone, wrapping an arm around Alicia to move her out of his way. She all but tripped into his lap, but stayed there as he spoke to Dylan. "This is about more than _nasty rumors_ , Dyl, it's abo-"

"Put. Me. _Down_!"

Massie's shriek came from the hall, effectively silencing him. His nose twitched as the door swung open, the force of a kick slamming it against the wall. The medals and ribbons Massie and Brownie won at Galwaugh Farms shook from their spots on her shelves. Dylan eyed them warily.

"You aren't allowed to talk to him," Kemp retorted, coming into view with a flailing Massie over his shoulder. "You need to pick a side and I will keep you in this room all night until you make the right call."

"Who are you, my dad?" the brunette demanded, hanging upside down. "You can't tell me what to do."

Kemp considered this. "True," he agreed, "but I'm going to anyway."

"This is ridiculous, it doesn't _matter_ \- _ack_!" The rest of her sentence was eclipsed by a second shriek as Kemp threw her unceremoniously on her bed.

He grinned at Dylan, still sitting on the edge of the mattress, who squinted at him, and surveyed the group. "Hey, guys," he said, as if it were normal for him to be tossing Massie Block around, as if it were normal for these five people to be around each other without fighting, "how's it going? Enjoying yourselves?"

"Yeah." Alicia nodded. "A pretty good Pretty Committee party if I do say - _ehmagawd_ ," she shouted when she saw him, jumping up so quickly she accidentally whacked Derrick with her hair. "What happened to your _face_?"

"Got into a fight."

"You too?" asked Derrick.

"With _who_?" demanded Alicia.

"Landon!" Massie wailed, still face-first in her comforter.

" _Landon_?" Alicia and Derrick questioned simultaneously.

Kemp nodded towards the latter. "You?"

"Danny."

"Probably deserved it."

"He did. Did yours?"

Kemp: "Yeah."

Massie snapped, "No, he didn't!"

"Massie." Kemp sighed like they'd been through this before, like this was a big ordeal for him. "We don't like him."

" _You_ don't like him," she retorted. "I liked him just fine, like, a month ago!"

"And now you don't," Kemp reminded her.

(Derrick was suddenly very interested in the books on Massie's desk.

"What are you doing?" Alicia asked him.

"Learning," he replied.

She wrinkled her nose.)

"That doesn't mean I can never talk to him again, and he can never come to any of our parties, and that I have to choose you or him." Massie pushed herself up, shook the hair out of her face, and shot Kemp her best glare. "That's not how life _works_."

He took it all in stride, hardly blinking an eye - an impressive feat because Massie's glares could be terrifying. "What? Are you _really_ gonna pick him over me?" When she didn't answer, he said, "I'll take your silence as a no. I'll give Crane this, though: he's cute, but I'm better."

Massie rolled her eyes. "Yeah," she returned resignedly, "if you were a chicken, you'd be impeccable."

Kemp's face lit up. "Do you like bacon?" he asked.

Massie didn't answer, looking up at the ceiling as if it had personally offended her. Dylan and Chris shared a confused glance. Alicia merely sighed.

"Wanna strip?" he finished, unperturbed, grinning like an idiot.

Alicia slapped the frozen bag of peas, now partially melted, over Kemp's right cheekbone.

"Ow," he yelped, "what was that for?"

"For being an idiot," she told him, scrutinizing the ugly bruise spreading around his eye. Similarly to earlier, her face was _right there_ in Kemp's, but Dylan noticed the way she tensed, how she seemed… _nervous_? What?

Kemp blinked at her and, with an easy grin, appealed, "But I'm _your_ idiot."

Alicia squeaked, eyelashes fluttering. The makeshift icepack almost slipped out of her hand.

" _Kemp_ ," Massie said, loud and insistent.

He looked over at her, flicking his wrist and tossing the melted vegetables on her nightstand. "Yep?"

"Don't."

"Don't what?"

Dylan narrowed her eyes at them, observing the pair as if they were a pro tennis match.

"You know," Massie snapped.

"But _I_ don't," Derrick piped up, spinning in the chair. "Secrets are no fun, Block."

Massie ignored him, reaching her foot out to prod Dylan's thigh, and providing no explanation or clarification. "Hi," she said instead, amber eyes twinkling.

Dylan tore her gaze away from Kemp, who was looking thoughtful, confused, and like someone who'd, like, gotten half of his face run over. "Hi," she replied, fighting a frown.

"Are you having a good time?"

She nodded, a warm feeling spreading to her toes. It'd been a long time since she'd been sure Massie actually cared about their friendship.

"Good," Massie said. "I'm sorry."

"You already apologized," Dylan told her, whacking at the girl's socked - when had she taken her shoes off? - feet. "But you," she added, turning towards Kemp. "I'm sorry. I wasted a really good coffee on you."

Chris coughed around his chuckle.

"What a bullshit apology," Kemp declared, "but you're right: that coffee was fuckin' delicious."

"You drank it?"

"Of course I drank it," he retorted, "I forgot which one was mine."

"Oh my _god._ "

" _Kemp_!"

"What?" he demanded. "It's not like you wanted it."

.

 _ **aleesharivera**_ (1d)  
 _what song are you most excited to hear at the party friday?_

 _Space Jam_ \- Quad City DJ's (46%)  
 _Space Jam_ \- Quad City DJ's (29%)  
 _Space Jam -_ Quad City DJ's (3%)  
 _Space Jam -_ Quad City DJ's (22%)  
1,489 votes - Final results

 _ **dylmarvil**_  
replying to _**aleesharivera  
**_ _omfg is this the reason you blocked me  
_ 54 likes / 10 retweets


	9. Headlines (Friendship Never Ends)

**a/n** : i want to thank you all for the reviews, i love every single one and how long they are! pls always tell me your feelings, even if they are negative haha i try to incorporate what everyone wants in my rough outlines of each chapter.

this chapter is a monster. 36 pages, over 9,000 words. massie and claire's POV happen either before (massie) or during (claire) the last scene in the previous chapter, jsyk. alicia's POV is kind of lacking, but she didn't want to be written the way i wanted her, so i had to cut that. she'll show up in the next one. i hope you enjoy this, even if there is a hint of landon/massie (which there is) and it's pretty choppy (super choppy) and has probably a lot of run-on sentences (after editing this, yes, it does, i think).

i wrote a huge chunk of this while i was drunk, which works out since they were drunk. i also have observed real 18 year old boys at my sister's boy only friendsgiving party, which was wholesome and eye-opening so i'm here to tell you that boys like these clique ones i made actually do exist. a group of boys WILL in fact dance to party in the USA to make you feel better. just keep on lookin'!

 **P.S.** : the present time storyline is in 2017, so everything that went down happened between 2014-2015.

* * *

 _Let's make the headlines, loud and true_  
 _I wanna tell the world I'm giving it all to you_  
 _Let's make the headlines, loud and clear_  
 _The best things suddenly happen when you are here_  
 _And if I lost my way you'd carry me home_  
 _Take me all the way to heaven, never leave me alone_  
 _And it's just like everything matters when you are near  
_ \- "Headlines (Friendship Never Ends)," Spice Girls

.

 _Josh angrily tugged at the neck of his sweat-drenched jersey, pulling it over his head and chucking it as far as it would go, which, it turned out, was not very far at all. The offending article of clothing fell in a pathetic heap not even two feet away; the letters of his last name reflected the stadium lighting at Briarwood's renovated soccer field, practically blinding him as he glared at the navy and burgundy monstrosity._

 _He threw himself down on the bottom bleacher, back sticking to the silver seat. His slightly muscled forearm covered his eyes, but it was like the scoreboard was burned in his retinas. Soccer wasn't a high scoring game and somehow…_

 _7, 1. Hotchkiss Academy._

 _The Tomahawks were out of the playoffs. Josh proved he wasn't as valuable a teammate as the upperclassmen thought and Derrick's first game as starting goalie ended up with half a concussion and a shattered nose. He'd been so embarrassed, so infuriated, that he hadn't followed them into the locker room after the game. Hadn't listened to Coach Pierce's furious tirade. Instead he'd gotten cornered by his old Hotchkiss friends and he'd probably get kicked off his own team before first period the next day._

 _He groaned, the autumn chill nipping at his bare chest. The silence that surrounded him was both eerie and comforting; the crowd was long gone, the only sign that there had been one being the leftover litter of hot dogs and soft drinks and little streamers from pom poms the Student Council was selling as a fundraiser. His friends had left: Derrick straight to Massie (they must've made up some time between the goalie's nose breaking and the Tomahawks losing), Kemp and Plovert with Dylan, and Cam had gone looking for Claire._

 _Josh'd brushed off all of their concern, was short with Massie, ignored Kemp's sympathetic - though it felt more like pity - looks, and had snapped at his younger sister even though she only wanted to go out for ice cream. He felt like shit, looked like shit, probably_ smelled _like shit, and there was literally nothing that could turn his mood around._

 _He had no idea how long he laid there, wallowing in his misery. The part of his brain that made sense of the passing of time was turned off. All he knew was the temperature was dropping._

 _And there were footsteps headed his way._

 _Josh stifled another groan. It was probably Alicia - she was the only one unaccounted for - and if he were being honest (and he rarely was these days) he didn't want to talk to her. Sure, she was hot as hell, but he just didn't have it in him to talk to her. She deserved more than he was willing to give right now: an apology for not taking her to Fall Formal, an explanation for attending Skye Hamilton's Famous Couples party with her instead, and the truth that he didn't actually believe in her annoying cousin's "Spanish Soccer Spell." None of them did, actually, but that mattered little. What mattered was he used it as a crutch, hiding behind it instead of telling her that he wasn't actually into her._

 _If he were a better person, he'd sit up and tell her all of that right now, but he wasn't, so he merely called out, "Alicia, now isn't a good time."_

" _It's not Alicia."_

 _Josh shot up at the sweet voice, vertical in under three seconds, and he casually brushed the hair off his forehead, trying to make himself look like less of a miserable sod. "Claire!" he exclaimed. He cleared his throat, chastising himself for his obvious excitement. "What are you doing here? I figured you'd be with Cam."_

" _Cam?" she questioned, frowning. "No… I just wanted to check on you. You look like you could use some cheering up."_

" _Oh." Josh lifted his shoulder in a shrug. "Don't worry about me, Lyons."_

" _Of course I'm going to worry about you, Josh. You're…" She stopped herself, looking bashful, and changed course. "You honestly look like someone killed your dog."_

 _He scoffed, looking away from her. "Thanks," he muttered. "You're doing really well at this cheering up thing."_

" _Hey!" She slapped his shoulder. "You don't know what my cheering you up is like. You told me not to worry!"_

 _Josh fought the tiny quirk of his lips, rubbing a hand over his mouth. "When someone tells you not to worry, they actually want you to worry," he told her, squinting into the distance. He wondered if his mom did stay in the parking lot like she threatened._

 _Claire was silent for a moment. "It's not your fault, you know," she said softly, reaching a supportive hand out to him. "When the whole team drops the ball - pun totally intended - it's not one specific person's fault. You played really well. It was totally unfair of them to put all that pressure on you because you transferred from Hotchkiss - that was_ two _years ago! How are you supposed to know what that team is like anymore?"_

" _Not much has changed," he admitted, twisting a spare thread around his finger until it turned white. "I could have easily stolen the ball on five separate occasions, I just… I fucking choked, Claire."_

" _And Derrick missed every goal except the one he took to the face," the blond retorted. "Your point?"_

" _I'm probably just not cut out for this," Josh mumbled, eyes downcast. "It was a lot easier and more fun in middle school. There was no… no added pressure. I kind of feel like I'm miserable playing this game now. Like…" He paused, wondering how much he could tell her, and found himself probably blurting out too much. "Derrick is too much now, he's always trying to be better than Klein and it's - it's brutal to hang out with him. And Kemp doesn't care, he never has, and Plovert is always half-high because he's afraid he's going to get injured_ again _, and Cam is - "_

" _Hey. Hey, hey, hey." Claire forced him to look at her, hands on his cheeks to pull his face in her direction. "Look at me. Look at me, Josh, and listen, alright? You're a damn good soccer player. I don't even know anything about soccer, right, but I know this. This game is important to you, and that's why there's pressure. What you do matters."_

" _It matters, yeah," he agreed, mouth squished together. "It matters because today's game meant more than… more than a lot of things. Briarwood hasn't gotten this far in_ years _, Claire, literal_ years _."_

" _And guess what, Josh!" she said, applying more pressure to his face. "You have three more years of games that mean more than 'a lot of things.' You'll get 'em next time."_

 _Josh blinked. "We will?"_

" _Don't really know if 'we' will, but I know_ you _will."_

" _Thanks."_

 _He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry as he looked into Claire's blue eyes, the color of a perfect summer's day, and he wished he could turn away, or wipe his palms on his shorts, or, you know, walk away like he had been since he met her. But she was_ right there _, so close, and she was providing him with this reassurance that he wasn't aware he wanted or needed, filling some void that was hollowing out a place to stay in his stomach._

 _Maybe it was guilt. It could be guilt._

" _...if you want," Claire was finishing. He'd missed the entire sentence._

" _What was that?" he breathed, heart hammering in his chest. She could probably feel it._

 _Her gaze was piercing while she repeated herself. "You can kiss me if you want."_

 _Yup, that void was guilt._

 _And it was guilt because he was a shitty friend, and he was so fucking angry, and he craved an intimate touch, and he'd just listened to Cam complain about his current predicament with Claire, pretended to be supportive, ignored Derrick's knowing glances…_

 _And it was guilt because he was whacking Claire's hands from his face, transferring the smooth, pink skin of her cheeks to his own grasp, and he was slanting his mouth over hers, forcing a moan from her throat as he pried her lips open to deepen the kiss. She tasted like gummies and Josh ignored the tug in his gut that reminded him of the person who got her those candies in the first place._

 _Claire threw one of her legs over his, lifting herself into his lap. The material of his soccer shorts bunched up mid-thigh as she straddled him. His hands shook - out of anger, guilt, or desire he wasn't sure - as he tugged the zipper of her puffy winter coat down, revealing the black wool of her sweater underneath. His mouth trailed kisses down her jawline, tongue licking at this one spot where her neck met her head, a spot that made her hiss from between her teeth._

 _Her stomach was warm to the touch, a fact that made her squeal; his fingers were cold as he trailed them up her body, reaching around her to fiddle with the -_

" _What the FUCK are you doing kissing my_ girlfriend _?"_

" _Cam, don't!"_

" _Don't_ what _, Massie?" Cam Fisher growled. "Did you know about this? Are you_ protecting _him?"_

" _I'm not - "_

 _Josh tore himself away from Claire so quickly she practically fell on the ground by his feet. He threw his arm out to steady her before turning his dark eyes, filled with anger (at the game, at Hotchkiss, at_ himself _), on Cam. "First of all, don't talk to Massie like that," he snarled, "and second, she told me I could so I did."_

" _Oh, yep, there you go, defending Massie like the whipped little… wait… did you just say she_ told you _you could?"_

 _Josh nodded curtly, crossing his arms over his chest. Massie forced herself around Claire's angry boyfriend, dropping the sweatshirt she'd stolen from Josh on his lap. He mumbled something akin to thanks, pulling it over his head._

" _Sucks, doesn't it?" Claire all but cooed, a sickly sweet yet nasty sort of sound. It sent goosebumps down Josh's spine. "When the person you like picks someone else over you."_

" _I never picked Nina over you!" he shouted. "And I most certainly never kissed anyone other than you!"_

" _Yeah, right." Claire scoffed. "Like I could trust you when Nina - "_

" _The only person that kissed Nina was Derrick," Massie mumbled. "Cam's telling the truth."_

" _I don't care who actually kissed Nina," Claire snapped, "though I am sorry about that, Mass, we'll talk about it later. What I care about is how you made me feel this entire month, Cam; you practically forced me into Josh right here!"_

" _I didn't force you anywhere, Claire! You manipulated Josh's crush on you - "_

" _\- okay, I wouldn't go as far as to call it a_ crush - "

" _\- and did this because you felt insecure and refused to talk to me!" Cam ignored Josh's interruption with a wave of his hand, his heterochromatic gaze fierce on Claire's pretty face. "I never ignored you. I was_ busy _, like I said. We had a game to prepare for, I had tests every day this week, and I_ told you this _. You thrive off the drama, Claire, and you make things out of nothing. Massie's right: I didn't kiss Nina, Derrick did, and you don't see her fucking making out with Plovert, do you?_ No!"

 _Massie bristled next to him, obviously not liking being brought into the argument, and she leaned forward, her hand cautiously resting on Josh's elbow. "Hey," she murmured, trying to sound a lot tougher than she was, "do you want to get out of here? Alicia and Dylan are waiting by the school, we were planning on -"_

" _No thanks." Josh shook her off and stood. "I really don't want to talk to you or Alicia or Dylan about any of this, okay? I have to walk home."_

" _I can give you a ride," Massie insisted._

" _No," Josh said. He pushed himself up, brushed past Cam, and picked his jersey up off the field. "I'm going to walk."_

" _Josh!" Massie yelled at his back._

 _He ignored her, headed towards the dark locker room on the other side of the bleachers, slipping through the door before she could catch up him with him and convince him otherwise._

 _He should have known then there was no coming back from this one._

.

Massie wrapped her arms around Josh, pressing her face into the warm skin of his back. Her hands shook minutely where they were laid against his bare stomach, and he lifted his own to cup hers, squeezing lightly.

"Hey," he greeted, "are you okay?"

She debated lying but thought better of it, knowing it would only upset him, and shook her head. The spicy scent of his Ralph Lauren cologne engulfed her, a comforting smell. "Landon's here," she informed him. "When I invited him, I didn't think he'd show and now I'm not really sure what to do with him."

"I thought you liked him."

"I did," Massie said, "but there's…" She accidentally caught Derrick's eye from where he stood with Cam, Kristen, and Claire. He frowned at her, jerking his chin towards the senior in question, doing that thing they used to do where they could have conversations without speaking. She ignored it, blinked, and buried her nose in between Josh's shoulder blades. "It's not that simple anymore."

Now there were two people staring at her: Derrick and Landon.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Josh questioned. When she didn't answer, he added, "You know you can talk to me, right? I know we're not where we used to be but… like, I'm not going to judge you or anything."

 _No, I'll just judge myself._

"I guess I imagined this… whatever I have going on with Landon being a bigger thing than it turned out to be," she offered up, sniffing him again, letting that cologne wash over her. "It had potential, but…" _But I suck and even my own thought processes make no sense to me… and they're mine._ "I guess it was just a summer fling."

Josh nodded. "Common."

"Yeah, but I just never told him?" Massie explained, letting her statement come out as more of a question. "I've been sort of… ghosting him."

"Ghosting him?"

"I have not answered one of his messages since around September second." _Which_ , Massie thought, _is the day I dragged Alicia to Kemp's house._ She hoped Josh didn't mention it.

"And why is that?"

"I just lost interest."

"So tell him that," Josh suggested.

Massie fought the urge to roll her eyes. Of course that's what she was supposed to do. What she should have done. But it was so much easier to ignore him completely than to have an honest conversation… because then she'd have to be honest with herself and, well, she'd much rather keep her head and heart separate for as long as she could.

It was easier that way.

She felt him look at her again; a shiver ran down her spine and she pressed her cheek into Josh. At this point they couldn't be any closer than if Massie tried to curl up inside his skin - a gross thought, but something she'd very much like to do if it meant getting out of whatever situation was coming her way. If it meant getting out of her head.

"That's mean, I think," she elected to say, "isn't there a nicer way to reject someone?"

"Rip it off like a bandaid, Mass."

This time she _did_ roll her eyes. "I'm mean but I'm not that mean, J."

"Um." He pinched the skin between her thumb and forefinger goodnaturedly. "You do know you are Massie Block, right? Resident mean girl?"

"I am not!" she retorted. "I'm nice!"

" _Er_ ," Josh edited. "Nic _er_."

Massie gaped. "I threw this lovely surprise party _and_ I'm planning Ripple Baxter's birthday - "

"You're still doing that?"

"Yes!" Massie said loudly, wriggling away from him. "Because I am _nice_!"

Josh spun around to grin at her, nose crinkling in the cutest way. Massie wanted to pinch his cheeks (in adoration and also annoyance). "It's because you thought it would somehow prevent a rumor from starting," he reminded her, "which it _didn't_ , and you're too stubborn to cancel the whole thing."

"Not even a little bit," she told him, shoving a finger into his pec. "Because I am _nice_ ," she enunciated again, "and I do not go back on my word."

"You told me we would be best friends forever and then didn't talk to me for two years."

"Unnecessary! Not the same! Rude!"

He chortled, wrapping his arms around her head and squeezing her to his chest. She squeaked, slapping at him, but his strong grip kept her in place and effectively ruined her hair, which she lamented loudly. He pretended he couldn't hear her over the chorus of _New Rules_.

"Hey, Massie, can you spare a minute?"

Josh froze.

Massie took a deep breath, twisting in his embrace. She gnawed on her lower lip, setting her gaze upon the tall figure of Landon Crane, the boy she'd had this whirlwind summer romance with, three months of cute coffee and ice cream dates, the Hamptons social scene, and late night rendezvouses at the beach. This was the same boy she'd fretted over, stressed about, wasn't sure if he'd like her for real, only for the summer, and she'd ditched him at the beginning of the month. She hadn't said anything to his texts, even when he suggested they do her favorite things (shopping, walking their dogs, eating pastries at Holy Crepe).

She looked at him, at his blue, _blue_ eyes, his messy curls, and the patterned sweater and jeans he wore, in no way a Halloween costume unless he was trying to be Mike Wheeler from _Stranger Things_ season two.

Landon smiled tentatively at her. Her heart skipped a beat in her chest and she pinched Josh's arm so he would let her go. "Sure," she murmured, throat dry. He was so _cute_. "Let's go over here."

Josh squeezed her supportively, inclined his head towards Landon, and slipped away. Massie watched him join his friends, butting in on Claire and Cam's conversation and pressing his fingers to the frown on Kristen's face. Claire, it seemed, didn't notice that Cam was half-listening to her; he was looking right at her - at Massie - curiosity replacing his casual expression.

 _Landon?_ he mouthed at her.

She allowed him a nod, returning with her own _Don't worry about it._

Cam lifted his shoulder in a shrug, as if this wasn't a big deal to him at all, and shot her a wink, returning to his conversation with Claire with such ease Massie wondered how good he was at multitasking. He murmured something, made the girl laugh, and then Massie was whisked into something she really didn't want to participate in.

Her hands felt clammy when she wiped them on her thighs. Her entire body felt cold, which was weird because she'd taken a significant number of shots with Kemp and Plovert before the party had even started, and her dress felt far too short, far too revealing compared to Landon's super comfortable-looking outfit.

"Stop that," Landon said softly, reaching out and linking their fingers. "You look beautiful."

 _Oh my god._

"So do you," Massie replied. "I mean, I mean - what? You… your sweater looks… I…"

He chuckled. "Thanks."

She swallowed, suddenly forgetting everything she'd been worried about when it came to him. Landon stepped closer to her, into her personal bubble, and his overwhelming scent surrounded her on both sides. He let go of her hand, flicking a curl out of his face with a shaky finger.

"I almost didn't come tonight," he told her. "They all told me not to, but… I just needed closure, I guess."

Massie opened her mouth to reply but he shook his head. "I get it. I'm not stupid. Not that I'm saying you think I am. Just… I can't stop texting you, Mass. They, like, they took my phone away from me," he told her, "and I still found a way to talk to you. And I know you haven't answered me back in weeks except for, like, that one time you told me you already got coffee…" He broke off, licking his lips. "It's over, right?"

 _Yes_.

 _No_.

 _I don't know_.

"Landon…"

He looked at her, and he looked so _fucking_ sad, and Massie… Massie wanted to sort of die, because she hadn't even known he'd liked her this much, hadn't known that _she'd_ liked him this much. But it didn't matter because she was confused, and she was jumbled, and her heart seemed to be getting pulled in three different directions, and it was all fall's fault, and he didn't deserve any of her mess. He should have the world. He should have a girl who could be with him one hundred percent, a girl that wasn't her.

"Okay," he said.

That was it. Two syllables.

"I'm really sorry," Massie breathed, voice trembling. "I just… I can't give you what you want. I don't even know what _I_ want. I'm just in a place where… where I'm not…"

Landon shook his head. "You don't have to explain it to me," he told her. "As much as I wish we could have… I'm not going to try to change your mind or force you to rethink it, even if I want you to. Even if I want to be with you so badly, I…" He stopped there, tore his gaze away from hers. "I hope he deserves it."

"What?" she asked. "Who?"

He elaborated cryptically, "The second chance. I hope he deserves it."

Massie had no idea what he was talking about, didn't actually _care_. Her heart felt like it was being crushed in her chest, a hand squeezing and squeezing until she thought it would burst. Landon's cheeks were pink, and Massie just realized how drunk she was, and her gaze was zeroing on him, on the cute little freckles by the corner of his mouth.

She surged forward, took his face in her hands, and pressed a kiss to that very mouth one last time.

Landon's arms came around her slowly, carefully, as if she were a porcelain doll that could break at any second. His hands settled against her lower back, pressing her closer to him, and her lips parted at the tender flick of his tongue. Her head tilted farther to the side, fingers sliding up into his hair, and Massie prayed to every god she knew, to Coco Chanel, and to Michelle Obama that she would not cry in the middle of this kiss, in the middle of this party, or _at all_.

He pulled away first, resting his forehead against hers. "You know you can always call me if anything goes wrong," he whispered. "If you ever need me, I'm just a phone call away, alright?"

"Alright," she all but whispered, afraid of the way her voice would sound if she spoke any louder.

"Alright," he repeated, kissing her one last time: chaste, small, speaking volumes. "Goodbye, Massie Block."

"No," she started to say, but the words never came out, because Kemp Hurley body checked Landon into the wall and she found herself shrieking " _Kemp_!" instead.

"What the fuck, dude?"

"Kemp, what are you doing?!"

"Me?" Kemp demanded, waving a hand at Massie's blotchy face and Landon's slightly swollen lips. "What are _you_ doing? I thought you didn't like him anymore!"

"Regardless of how I feel about _any-one_ ," she over-enunciated, forcing her hands to her hips, "you don't get to slam him into walls! I can do _what I want_!"

"Massie, you can't just - "

"I _can_ just!" she interrupted. "You are not my dad!"

"I bet he would not be happy about this!"

"Yeah, about how out of hand this party got, but he _does_ like Landon." Massie shot him a dirty look. "He didn't fuckin' _squeak_ when he met him, y'know, after he slept in my room."

" _Landon slept in your room?_ "

"No!" Massie stomped her foot. " _You_ did, re-mem-ber?"

Landon frowned, rubbing at his shoulder. Kemp was really strong, like linebacker strong, and there was an eighty percent chance he'd bruised Landon when he broke the two of them apart. "I'm definitely missing something here," the older boy mumbled.

"Yeah, you definitely are," Kemp snapped.

"Do you want me to get you some ice?" Massie asked Landon, ignoring Kemp's furious comments.

"Nah, I'm fine," Landon told her, looking from her to Kemp and back as if the other boy was going to pounce on him like some sort of wild animal. "I've gotten injured worse." His casual comment seemed to sound like a challenge.

"Are you sure?" Massie stepped forward to touch him, but Kemp pulled her back by the forearm. "Kemp, let go."

"We don't _like_ him," he hissed.

" _You_ don't like him," Massie shot back. "I don't care about your stupid sports team rivalries - I don't care about the football team, or ADD's soccer team, or even their lacrosse team - no offense, Lan - and you can _stop_ trying to protect me! You're only making this worse. I do not need you to fight my battles or attack boys for me, alright? You. Are. Overstepping. Now let go."

"No. Not until you walk away."

"Let. Go."

" _No_."

"Do not tighten your grip on me! Let me go! Go back to whatever you were doing with Josh, okay? I can handle this."

"Massie, walk away."

"How many times do I have - "

"Dude, she said let her go," Landon growled from behind her. It smelled like puberty right there, testosterone flying in every direction, turning this into a pissing contest it did not need to be. All Massie wanted to do was walk away and probably find one of her saner friends (ie: Chris) and drink her fury and misery - an odd combination - away.

" _Dude_ ," Kemp mocked.

Landon rolled his eyes and attempted to pry Kemp's fingers off Massie's wrist. It didn't work.

"Get out of here, pretty boy," Kemp spat, this nasty sort of smirk playing on his mouth. He totally loved that he was stronger than Landon. "I'm sure whatever was going on between you two has ended, yeah? Your presence is no longer wanted."

"Says _who_?" Massie wailed. "This is my house! My party! I can have whoever I want here."

"Yeah," Kemp agreed, "but not him."

"Alright, that's _it_." Landon dropped Massie's arm a little harsher than necessary, but she was willing to forgive that, and punched Kemp straight in the face, which she wasn't. At least right now.

.

 _ **Josh Hotz**_ posted in _**The Petty Committee**_ : hey  
 _ **Josh Hotz**_ : whered everyone go  
 _ **Cam Fisher**_ : im standing right next to u?  
 _ **Josh Hotz**_ : NOT LOOKING FOR YOU FISH  
 _ **Derrick Harrington**_ : why is our group named the petty committee  
 _ **Josh Hotz**_ : bc were petty?  
 _ **Josh Hotz**_ : and pretty committee is already taken :(  
 _ **Kemp Hurley**_ : i think were prettier  
 _ **Chris Plovert**_ : u shut ur damn mouth

.

"Let me at least walk him out!" Massie cried, slapping at Kemp's hands as he threw her over his shoulder. "Kemp, you're being unreasonable."

"What's unreasonable is you offered Crane ice but not me," Kemp said.

Massie huffed. "You deserve whatever aches and pains he gave you," she retorted. "You're stupid and I hate you." She lifted her head and looked at Landon. "You don't have to go if you don't want to. Don't listen to him. He's an asshole."

"You're right about that, but… I should probably getting going. I wasn't going to stay that long." Landon reached a hand out to cup her cheek and Massie closed her eyes. "See you around."

"I'll call you tomorrow," she said.

"No need," Landon returned with a soft, little smile. "Wish I could say I'd miss you, Hurley, but…"

Kemp shrugged the shoulder Massie wasn't hoisted on. "You throw a mean right hook, Crane."

"Only the best for my least favorite people," quipped Landon. Massie stifled a giggle. "Bye."

Landon twisted on his heel and left, pausing to offer Claire a tiny little wave. She returned it, frowning at the way Massie watched him go before Kemp all but kidnapped her, sweeping from the room and ignoring her complaints. She could only imagine how Massie felt right now; despite everything, she was probably half-heartbroken. Claire remembered how nervous Massie had been about Landon all summer.

Even if she'd had a flirty pizza date with Cam, nothing would change that.

And speaking of Cam…

He twirled one of her pigtails. "You have so much hair," he said. "S'cute, though."

Claire bit her lip, trying to ignore the way his blue eye (her favorite) twinkled at her.

"The bangs came in handy for once," she replied evenly, wiping her palms on her white shift dress. "Who knew?"

"It's like you grew them out for this very day," said Cam.

"Yep, that's it." She nodded seriously, mesmerized by the easy smile on his mouth. "When I was twelve, I knew that four years in the future, on September twenty-ninth specifically, I would need Baby Spice bangs. And here I am."

"Incredible," Cam commented, his nose wrinkling in amusement.

It had been so long since Claire had been able to have a coherent conversation with him, let alone one where he seemed to actually enjoy himself. Granted, they were hardly toeing the surface of anything - talking about her hair and her costume and mocking partygoers around them was superficial at best - but it was something, right? And it had to prove that whatever he did with Massie at Slice of Heaven meant nothing.

She felt her cheeks heat up, pressed one of them to her shoulder, and brought her mixed drink to her mouth to hide the other. She drank a significant amount, hoping they'd all assume that the alcohol was making her flush, not him. But she couldn't hide from Kristen's stern, knowing glance.

Claire rolled her eyes, debated saying something to her (a reassurance, a warning?) when Josh sidled up to them in all of his shirtless glory. They all turned their gazes on him and Claire found herself admiring the definition in his abdominal muscles; all the boys on the soccer team were incredibly built. What was it about their workouts that, like, chiseled them out of marble? Had Michaelangelo returned to Earth to sculpt them? If so, she should probably thank him.

She snorted to herself, blinking the onslaught of drunkenness out of her eyes. Maybe she should stop drinking for a bit.

"Have you seen Alicia, or Derrick, or Chris, or - " Josh stopped himself, frowning. " - all of our friends, really?"

"More importantly," Kristen interjected, weaseling her way into the half circle they'd made. She shouldered Claire, apologized, and forced herself between her and Cam. "Why did no one help Kemp when Landon punched him in the eye?"

Cam shrugged. Claire eyed his arm, brushing against Kristen's. "It's easier to just let Kemp get punched in the face," he offered up, clinking the neck of his beer against Josh's. "Kemp's stupid that way: He gets into fights so often if we tried to help him or stop him it would honestly just be a waste of time."

"Are the rest of you like that?" Kristen questioned, peering up at him. "Just say the word and I'm outta this friendship thing."

"Aw, KGreg, don't be like that." Cam's eyes twinkled as he threw his arm, the same one that had been pressed tight against hers, around her shoulder, forcing her into the apparently Kristen-sized space in his side. "The only person _I_ punch is Derrick."

"Derrick?" she parroted. "Isn't he your best friend?"

"I take great offense to that question," Josh announced.

Cam lifted his foot to nudge him in the shin, but his intense gaze never left Sporty Spice. "It spices up our relationship," he told her seriously. "We've been dating so long it gets boring sometimes."

"Dating?"

"Yeah, why do you think it's so hard for Derrick to keep girlfriends?" Cam replied. "I'm the only one for him."

Claire blinked. "Isn't he with Sadie Meltzer?"

"Don't remind me," Cam answered. "It's almost our twelve year anniversary. I have no idea what to get him."

Kristen cackled, whacking him in the knee. "Stop that."

"No, I'm serious, does anyone know what I should get him? It's our silk year."

"How do you _know_ that?"

"Um, I'm an incredibly devoted partner?" Cam returned with a scoff. "And also Derrick sent me an evite, asking me what I wanted to do for our silk year." He pulled his phone out of his shorts, typed in his passcode, and pulled it up. "See?"

"Oh my _god_ ," Kristen all but shouted. "Is that a collage of you guys since kindergarten?" She shimmied away from Cam, raced over to Claire, and zoomed in on all the cute pictures of the two of them from their childhood.

There was one where Cam had lost his front tooth, this big gap in his ecstatic smile, and Claire thought she was going to die. Derrick looked adorable, too, all pink-cheeked and muddy, but, like, she didn't really care.

"I think I'm gonna get him, like, really nice silk boxers," Cam was telling Josh as the girls cooed over Derrick's handiwork. "You know, so, like, they'll be nice when I take them off him later."

"This might be why everyone thinks the two of you are gay," Josh pointed out.

"Ugh, if only." Cam sighed. "We're just platonically in love. It's so unfortunate."

"Honestly, that's a couple I could really get behind," Kristen told them. Claire hadn't realized the other girl had been paying attention to the conversation; she'd screenshotted this collage and sent it to herself. The next thing Claire knew, her phone was buzzing in her pocket. "Like Brangelina. RIP."

Claire looked up to shoot Kristen a look and found Cam staring at her, this grin on his face she couldn't quite place. She returned it cautiously, pulled her phone out, and read the message.

 _ **Kristen Gregory**_ posted in _**The Pretty Committee**_ : Attachment: 1 image  
 _ **Kristen Gregory**_ : yo im screaming  
 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : i have never seen anything cuter than derrick harrington, age 6.  
 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : except for derrick harrington, age now.  
 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : derrick harrington, age now, wrote that, not me. I stnd by age 6.

Claire laughed, clicked out of the group text, and gripped both her cell and her cup in one hand. If anything Derrick was funny, and Alicia had always been her funniest (and relaxed) when he was around.

"...what do you think, Claire?"

"What do I think about what?" she replied, meeting Josh's dark eyes steadily.

"Flip Cup," he said slowly, like she was four, "us four against the football team."

"The _entire_ football team?"

"Obviously not. That would be ridiculous. Four of them against four of us. Since, you know, I've lost all of my friends and they don't appropriately answer text messages."

Claire looked at him, looked at drink, looked inside herself. She knew she probably should say no, because her face felt hot and her eyes kind of heavy and she sort of didn't remember what happened ten minutes ago. But Josh was looking at her, and Cam was looking at her, and Kristen was still looking at this collage, so Claire merely held up a finger, downed the rest of her Bacardi and Coke, despite disliking how the soda coated her teeth and the sugar made her feel gross, and answered, "Sure, but if I throw up tonight, it's your fault."

" _That's_ the spirit," Cam cheered, slapping her back goodnaturedly.

 _Yup_ , Claire thought, the heat from his palm sending tingles down her spine, _that it was_.

.

 _ **cplov47**_ posted a new photo  
 _my favorite spices_ _ **mmmblock aleesharivera**_  
224 likes / view all 34 comments _  
_ **livvycolls** _oooooo_ _ **carandolph**_ _he looks so good  
_ **aleesharivera** _**livvycolls carandolph**_ _hey, uh, step off maybe?  
_ **dylmarvil** _wow that was so ballsy_ _ **livvycolls**_ _ur my hero  
_ **aleesharivera** _dylan!_

.

Derrick rubbed his hand on his forehead, actively trying to avoid looking at Massie's legs. Her long, long, long _bare_ legs. It wasn't working.

She was laying there, feet propped on Dylan, shooting barbs and weird pick up lines - what the fuck was that about? - at Kemp, who had a bruise the size of Landon Crane's fist on his face that had Alicia frantic, even though Kemp _always_ had a bruise on his face. Chris was the only composed one there, casually observing the multitude of pictures pinned to the corkboard by Massie's closet.

And Derrick looked at her legs again.

"Do not call him tomorrow," Kemp was saying.

"Do not tell me what to do," she returned.

"I am looking out for you!"

"I liked that boy!"

" _Past tense_!" Kemp trilled. "Why don't you like him anymore?"

"I don't have to explain myself to you."

"I would _like_ you to."

"Well, I'm not going to just come out and say that I don't like Landon anymore, even though I _should_ , because I lik-"

For some reason, Derrick knew that Massie needed some sort of saving here, knew that she was drunk enough that she'd accidentally let something slip. Maybe it was the years he'd known her, maybe it was because he knew how Kemp could push and prod until he got what he wanted. Maybe it was because Dylan and Alicia didn't seem to realize she was about to say something she probably didn't want to say. Maybe it was because Dylan and Alicia might not even know what she was going to say.

Regardless of the situation, Derrick knew he had to interrupt, and so he did, but it wasn't exactly in the way he intended.

"Did you rearrange your room?" he asked loudly, forcing himself out of his slouched position. "I don't remember your bed being over there, but it makes getting to your window easier, I guess."

The silence that engulfed them was so strong, so tense. The party raged downstairs, the only sound in the room now. Nonsensical laughter, the buzz of conversation, the song switching to _Champion_ by Fall Out Boy… but nothing in here. Just Alicia's sharp intake of breath.

 _If I could live through this_ was right. Derrick cleared his head and shot them all his best easygoing smirk.

"How do you _know_ that?" Kemp asked.

"Uh, we did date for a while?" Derrick replied back. "For, like, a year?"

Chris frowned. "When we were thirteen."

"Yeah, so, like, I was obviously in this house. And this room." Derrick crossed his arms, ignoring Massie's stare. It was the first time she'd purposely looked at him all night. "It's not some big secret."

"Right," said Kemp, "but you said 'it makes getting to your window easier.'"

"You forgot the 'I guess,'" Chris added.

"True. You said 'it makes getting to your window easier, I guess.' If you were dating, wouldn't you be welcomed in this house? Why are you getting to her window?"

Alicia started giggling. Dylan tried to kick her but missed by a long shot.

"Because I was coming at a time where I would not be welcomed?" Derrick retorted. He made a face, mentally berating himself for saying that. Why didn't he have control over his mouth? That was so _stupid._ "How else do you think I knew all the backroads to Block's? I used to ride my bike all the ti-"

" _Used to ride my bike_ \- "

"Were you about to say _all the time_?"

"Oh my _GOD_ \- "

Alicia was outright laughing now, hands over her mouth, looking from Derrick's face, devoid of all emotion, to Massie's, red with embarrassment.

"I FEEL LIKE AN ANGRY DAD," Kemp wailed.

Dylan, poised and graceful, merely said, "This explains why I had no idea where I was in the car."

"Which is fucking stupid," Derrick told her, composing himself, "have you never been behind Massie's house before?"

"Clearly not," Dylan snipped, "or else I would have known where I was. Unlike _you_ , I use the front door!"

Alicia coughed out another cackle.

"I'm getting another drink!" Massie announced, getting to her feet. "Once you guys are done with whatever this is, please join us downstairs again." She grabbed both Alicia and Dylan's hands, spared a glance at Derrick that seemed to warm him from his toes up, and tugged them out of the room.

She popped her head back inside after a second, fixing her patented angry Massie glare on Kemp. "Do not punch anyone else tonight, do you understand me?"

"Yes, Mom," he said dutifully.

"I thought I was your daughter right now."

"I don't know how I feel!"

Massie rolled her eyes at him, leaving the room for good.

Derrick found he missed her, but that wasn't anything new.

"Started talking, buddo," Chris ordered, taking Dylan's spot on the end of the bed. Kemp merely threw himself on the floor, squinting up at Derrick from Massie's white rug.

"Talking about what?" he asked.

"This sneaking into Massie's room business," elaborated Kemp. "We're curious. What did you do?"

"We were thirteen."

"So, you came over to do nothing?"

"That's not what I said," Derrick mumbled.

Chris and Kemp looked at him expectantly.

"What?" he snapped.

"Are you going to tell us?"

"Of course I'm not going to tell you." Derrick scoffed. "I trust you as far as I can throw you."

"Good thing you're not on the football team then," Chris joked. Derrick threw the closest thing on Massie's desk at him; it was a fuzzy picture frame of Alicia and Massie from when they were eight. "Aw," he said, tossing it beside him.

Kemp eyed him, but when it was clear Derrick's mouth was shut, he sighed grandly. "Well, this was a bust," he said, "let's go back downstairs. Now that the girls aren't here, this is stupid."

Chris wiggled his fingers, forcing Kemp to pull him off the bed.

"Go without me," Derrick ordered with a wave of his hand. "I'll be down in a sec."

They shrugged, disappearing into the hall. Alone, Derrick ran a hand through his short hair, wishing, not for the first time, that he hadn't cut it. There had been something comforting about tugging at his curls when he was distressed. Which he was. Right now.

He looked from Massie's window to her bed. They may have been thirteen - fourteen, too, when they dated those three months into freshman year - but it wasn't like he didn't have urges even then. He did, and he didn't really know how to control them (or himself) most of the time, and Massie was super pretty…

Derrick shook his head, exiting the room quickly. There was something about it that upset him. The memories, probably. He was going to blame the alcohol, though, because everything about feelings was stupid, and sometimes he got really sad when he was by himself when he was drunk.

And remembering Massie's mouth was so not helping.

.

"Joshie!" Alicia sang.

"Ali!" He shoved a red cup in her hand. "Quick, drink this, then flip."

"Dude, that's cheating," P.J. Levine snapped from the other side of the table.

"The only rule is that someone drinks the beer and flips the cup, doesn't matter who - hell yeah, Alicia, I could kiss you!"

"Do not!" she yelled back at him.

He grabbed her face and kissed her temple anyway.

"Where'd you disappear to?" he asked, situating Alicia in his old spot between Cam and Claire. She knew exactly what he was doing, and it was _quitting_ , but she didn't care. She was really good at this.

Alicia pointed upstairs, eyes on Kristen at the end of the table. She had a few seconds advantage; Danny Robbins was struggling with his empty cup, Dempsey Solomon furious beside him, tapping his fingers against the table. Kristen swallowed, flicked her cup. It landed perfectly upside down and Cam threw his fist in the air.

"Upstairs in Massie's room with the rest of them," Alicia finally said as they set up again.

Josh turned towards Massie, a frown pulling at his mouth. "Why am I never invited?"

"You're invited to get a new drink with me," Massie offered. "I really need one after all that."

"You're planning on telling me, right?"

"Obviously," she drawled. "It was a _nightmare_."

They traipsed off, Massie hands flying as she told Josh the story of her night, and Dempsey groaned. "We're losing to _girls_ , man," he snapped at Danny.

"I take great offense to that," Claire said, voice slurring more than it had when Alicia left.

"Yeah," Kristen agreed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's… you're… you're girls!"

"So what?" she shouted. "You should learn to drink faster!"

Alicia turned to Claire. "You good?" she asked, kind of concerned, a very un-Alicia thing to be. "Do you need to sit this one out? Chris can get you water and Dylan can sub in."

Claire shook her head, pigtails flying. "Totally fine," she answered, "but, like, water sounds good. This beer sucks."

"That's because it's Rolling Rock," Cam said over Alicia's little space buns. "Tastes like gross water. Goes down quickly."

"Disgusting," Claire mumbled. She slammed her cup on the table. "Let's get going."

Dylan tapped Cam on the shoulder, whispered something in his ear. Cam nodded, switching places with her and the next thing Alicia knew, it was four members of the Pretty Committee against four starting football players.

They started with P.J. and Alicia, who knocked back her drink and only had to flip her cup twice. Dylan made up for Alicia's lost time, the game moving down to Kristen before Danny even had a chance to bring his beer to his lips. Dempsey shouted at him again while Kristen, once again, destroyed, and Claire finished the round with Dempsey frantically trying to get his cup upside down.

"Seems like you're the weak link here," Baby Spice said to Tarzan.

Dempsey rolled his eyes. "I'm done here. Later, Kristen."

"Ew," Kristen mumbled.

Danny shot Alicia a sly smirk, eyes settling on her chest. Claire leaned forward, reaching in front of Alicia and blocking Danny's view because "Dylan's cup is nicer than mine and I want it."

Alicia patted Claire on the shoulder.

"Our cups are the same," Dylan said, swapping them.

"Danny was salivating looking at Alicia," Claire told her, swapping them back. "I just needed a reason to get in his way and they all think I'm, like, super drunk."

Dylan raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you?"

"Yeah, but that's besides the point."

"My girls! My favorites!" Kemp threw his arms around them, doing his best to get all of them. "Not all heroes wear capes!"

"An award for the most beautiful game of Flip Cup I've ever seen." Chris handed Claire water.

"Oh, thank God," she mumbled, draining it all in one go.

Chris grinned crookedly at her.

"I wonder how they'd fare in beer pong," Josh said to Cam.

Cam considered this. "Claire seems like the type to be really good at drinking games when she's trashed," he offered up seriously. "If we have to play, I want her on my team."

Alicia noticed Claire's face brighten and frowned. She also saw the way Kristen's hand tightened around her cup. It made her head hurt, so she ignored it.

"What happened to Massie and Josh?" Kemp asked, arms still around Alicia and Dylan.

"Kitchen," the redhead supplied. "Derrick?"

"Right here," the boy in question answered, slipping into the room. Dylan reached up and mussed his hair. "Stop that."

"Well, someone go get them!" Kemp commanded. "I think it's high time we talked."

"We're talking right now," Alicia said.

"You know what I mean." He booped her nose.

"I'll get them," Cam offered.

Twenty minutes later, they found themselves in one of William Block's studies, ten shots of Grey Goose lined up on the desk. Silently they cheers'd, knocked them back, and began to clear the air.

.

"I'm sorry for sleeping with your sisters, that was wildly uncool of me," Kemp said to Dylan. She nodded, chugging her drink. "And I shouldn't have rubbed it in your face. I should have just told you you breaking up with me hurt me."

"If it helps," she replied around a mouthful of vodka, "I see it this way: _I_ am the reason you are now the bad boy you are. That fills me with so much joy. You're welcome."

.

"Granted, I shouldn't have made out with Josh, but can you blame me?"

"Claire!"

"What?" she demanded. "I'm being _honest_. Isn't that what you wanted?"

.

"Well, if we're trying to be honest here," Cam started, "I lied about not kissing Nina."

"What the _hell_!" shouted Alicia.

"I KNEW IT," Claire exclaimed.

.

"Pretty sure I was so upset because I also slept with Kemp."

"Dude, what the fuck, you got all _three_ Marvils?"

Kemp lifted his arms, recreating the shrug emoji, and grinned.

.

"Sorry I yelled at you for being so obsessed with popularity." Derrick knocked back his third shot. "And then breaking my leg while getting hazed for the soccer team and trying to tell you it wasn't the same. It was."

.

"I would like to take the time to say I never did anything wrong, thank you very - "

Massie threw a pillow at him.

"Fine," Josh relented. "Alicia, I'm sorry for never being outright with how I felt about you. I led you on for a really long time."

Alicia sniffed, accepting his apology.

"And, Massie, I'm sorry I never hit Derrick in the face for telling me I couldn't be friends with you. With your permission, I will do it now."

.

"I can't believe you slapped me! I already got hit in the face today!"

"That's why I slapped you! I'm not a monster!"

.

"I already apologized to Dylan tonight," Chris announced. "Who else do I owe apologies to?"

"Me, probably," Kemp said, "but I don't remember why."

.

"I'm sorry I forced Cam to stop being friends with you," Claire said to Kristen. "I thought he liked you more than me."

"To be fair, I liked everyone more than you from September 2015 to November 2015," admitted Cam.

Claire glared at him. "I'll allow it."

.

"I'm sorry the last thing I ever texted you was that you sucked at soccer," Cam came out with.

Derrick gasped.

"Fine," Kristen permitted, "I made a voodoo doll of you and stabbed it in the heart once."

"WHAT," Kemp yelled.

.

"I'm sorry that I'm so beautiful."

"Alicia, that isn't a valid apology."

"But it's true."

.

"Fine," Alicia relented. "Claire, I'm sorry I was so jealous of you all the time, and I'm sorry I tried to kiss Cam, and I'm sorry Cam almost let me."

"Don't apologize for that," Cam said. "That's on me. I would have kissed you anyway but you ran away."

"I feel like I should lock Alicia up in a tower and never let her leave," said Derrick.

"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair," sang Kristen.

.

Kristen frowned. "I just realized I have never been romantically interested in any of you."

"I had an incredibly vivid sex dream about you once."

"Thanks, Kemp," she stated dryly.

"I feel like I should apologize for the things you did in it."

"Shut up immediately."

.

"Let's take a shot for every time Massie kicked Claire out of the group."

.

"I regret suggesting that." Chris groaned. "How many was that?"

"Eight?"

"Seven."

"I'll see you all tomorrow." Dylan licked her lips, settled down on the leather couch, and closed her eyes.

.

"I'm so sorry I tried to kick you out of our group seven times," Massie said to Claire. Her eyes were bloodshot and glassy.

"I'm sorry I did stuff that made you do that."

"I don't think you did anything?" Massie questioned, trying to think about it. "Whatever. I shouldn't have done it."

Claire shrugged. "I definitely sucked between the months of September 2015 and November 2015, though, if that makes you feel better."

"Hear, hear," Cam exclaimed.

Massie pulled Claire into a hug.

.

"Hey," Derrick whispered, mouth brushing against Massie's ear, "I'm not doing this out loud because I don't want… just because. I'm sorry about kissing Nina. She never once meant anything to me. I was just mad."

Massie gripped her knee, nodding. "It's fine."

"It's not," he murmured, voice low and appealing though Massie tried to ignore it. "I'm… I was crazy about you, like _so_ much so that all my feelings for you were heightened no matter what they are." She furrowed her brow at the way he was switching tenses. "I think… Nina wasn't… she wasn't worth it. She'll never have been worth it."

"Chris Abeley never meant anything, either," Massie told him quietly. It didn't matter, though, because Alicia and Kemp were yelling at each other, and Dylan was passed out, and Chris was trying to braid Claire's hair with his eyes closed. "It was… Skye liked him, and I needed to do it for… to secure my popularity. It turned out _he_ liked _me_ , something I never, ever thought to factor in, because, like, who would like me over Skye - "

Derrick's fingers caressed her bare shoulder. "I would," he told her, sounding surer than she'd ever heard him. "I do."

She ignored the shiver his touch sent down her spine and turned her face to press it into his hand. "Thanks," she mumbled.

"Friends?" he posed.

"Friends," she answered, "but I'm still going to insult you."

The grin on his face fucking radiated light. She knew it was there even with her eyes closed. "I wouldn't expect anything else."

.

 _ **kemphurley**_ posted a new video  
 _look at all of these sleeping babies #BestFriends #GoToSleepKemp #DylanIsFinally16 #IHopeNoOneDiedInOurAbsence  
_ 1,967 views / 544 likes / view all 4 comments  
 **marvilryan** _baby seester goes hard  
_ **samharring** _oh my godddddd are cam and derrick mermaidman and barnacle boy_


	10. Memories

**a/n** : here we are again, hello. this is kind of a filler chapter? i wanted to emphasize their friendships before i have shit hit the fan again, which it will, so i broke down the week after dylan's party.

in this chapter you will see: a lot of cam, a lot of massie, a lot of plovert, some alicia, some kristen, a hint of kemp. i want to remind everyone that the flashbacks occurred in 2015, two years ago, and the regular story occurs in 2017. a lot of things change in two years, a lot do not. keep that in mind.

i also want to stress that literally nothing is going to happen with massie and chris. you'll see why once you read this. please let me know if there are certain relationships you want to see in the next chapter - it will most likely be written out in a format similar to this one.

work once again stressed me out so be kind to me~

* * *

 _Oh, memories  
_ _Where'd you go?  
_ _You were all I've ever known  
_ _How I miss yesterday  
And how I let it fade away  
Don't fade away  
_\- "Memories," Panic! At The Disco

* * *

 **SATURDAY**

* * *

 _ **Massie Block**_ : hey how's your shoulder

.

 _ **Massie Block**_ : where tf are you  
 _ **Kemp Hurley**_ : upstairs  
 _ **Kemp Hurley**_ : in my bed  
 _ **Massie Block**_ : oh, u left?  
 _ **Kemp Hurley**_ : nah

.

 _ **Landon Crane**_ : i've been through worse, massalasses  
 _ **Massie Block**_ : i thought i told you to never call me that!  
 _ **Landon Crane**_ : too bad, massalasses  
 _ **Massie Block**_ : blocked

.

 _ **Massie Block**_ : wait  
 _ **Massie Block**_ : ARE U IN /MY/ BED  
 _ **Kemp Hurley**_ : depends on your definition of "my"  
 _ **Massie Block**_ : why are you always in my bed and i'm not?  
 _ **Kemp Hurley**_ : if you want to sleep with me all you have to do is ask baby  
 _ **Massie Block**_ : im screaming but  
 _ **Massie Block**_ : ;)

.

The purple Post-It had spiral doodles and a rough sketch of a soccer ball on the top righthand corner. But what was most important was the messy scrawl in the middle, all bunched together and lopsided.

 _Sorry if I embarrassed you. I didn't mean to. I just wanted you to be able to keep some things to yourself. Kemp never respects personal space, which I'm sure you've figured out by now._

Massie tucked the (surprisingly sweet) note into her underwear drawer.

.

 _ **derrickharrington**_ posted a photo  
 _obligatory birthday post, can't figure out if i regret the milkshake tattoo or not  
_ 489 likes / view all 15 comments  
 **jotz** _romantic  
_ **dylpickle** _no regrats  
_ **aleesharivera** _wait is the milkshake tattoo for dylan i make fun of that one all the time yikes_

* * *

 **SUNDAY**

* * *

 _ **Massie Block**_ posted in _**The Pretty Petty Committee**_ : i refuse to move from table 18  
 _ **Massie Block**_ : if we have to merge we're merging from 18, not 2  
 _ **Josh Hotz**_ : ""if we have to"" dont make it sound like a chore  
 _ **Chris Plovert**_ : yeah sounds like u dont wanna sit together  
 _ **Massie Block**_ : thats bc i dont  
 _ **Cam Fisher**_ : woooooooooow  
 _ **Kristen Gregory**_ : why is our group named the pretty petty committee  
 _ **Derrick Harrington**_ : because y'all are pretty and we're petty  
 _ **Kemp Hurley**_ : no its because WE ((((the boys)))) are both pretty and petty  
 _ **Massie Block has left the group  
Josh Hotz added Massie Block to the group**_

* * *

 **MONDAY**

* * *

Massie admired the deep purple of her lipstick in her locker mirror, puckering her lips. The plum color went well with her gray knitted sweater, but she wondered for the fifth time that day if it was a mistake pairing the top with this blue-green skirt. She thought about it again, hands on her hips, and then decided against it. She still looked great, and her boots were to die for, and it was simply an outfit Massie Block would wear. No one had to know she was still stressing about it. No one had to know she'd spent close to four hours picking it out last night.

She hadn't felt this flustered about anything since seventh grade, when she was trying to make a name for herself and she had to be one step ahead - better, better, _better_ than everyone else.

In her defense, though, this was the first time she - the first time _the Pretty Committee_ \- would be publically interacting with the all of their old friends and ex-boyfriends and ex-crushes. It made sense that she was this nervous, that she felt like she was in middle school; wasn't that the last time they'd spoken? The last time they honestly liked each other?

And while the group chat blew up on her phone, texts that ranged from terribly formal to _remember when_ s to Dylan asking if she could borrow "that sweater she really liked" from Derrick (who'd said yes and met her at the front steps of BOCD this morning just to hand it to her), Massie was tearing her closet apart.

Sure, she wasn't the First Lady or something like that, but outfits mattered. Outfits _said_ something, and she needed one that screamed, _This is normal, I'm not freaking out, I can be friends with these boys_ , but, you know, she needed it to say that in a casual sort of way. A _What? I often rekindle friendships with boys that either broke my heart or almost tore my group apart_ kind of way. Something like... _Yeah, I'm aware this is a terrible idea and that it might actually tear my group apart this time, but here we go!_

This sweater-skirt-thigh high boots combo was perfect.

Or it had been yesterday and this morning.

Now it looked too try hard and she wasn't sure if she should swap it out for the one she left in her locker for emergencies: a jersey dress, long cardigan, and little ankle boots that rarely saw the light of day because of the tiny coffee stain by her big toe.

She would have done it, too - these boys were already giving her anxiety - if not for the spawn of Satan, Skye Hamilton.

"MB!" the blond beauty called, sidling over to her. She cooed at the picture of the girls Massie had taped to her locker, tapping her finger against Alicia's face a bit harsher than necessary. "Got a sec?"

 _No_ , she wanted to say, but this was Skye Hamilton, and Skye Hamilton ran this school. Or, at least, part of it, and Massie was still a little bit intimidated by her even after all these years.

"For you?" she returned, the fake friendliness falling easily from her mouth. "Of course. What's up?"

"Walk with me," Skye ordered.

Massie fell into step beside her, shoving her notebooks and folders into her tote so her hands were free. Skye, on the other hand, carried nothing, not even a backpack, and she made Massie look like a wannabe just in the way she carried herself. The senior was most definitely not worried about anything, let alone reuniting with five boys she'd sworn to never speak to again. Skye would never vow anything like that in the first place.

"Thanks for the invite Friday," Skye started with. "Fun party. I really didn't know little Lyons had it in her."

With a shrug of her shoulder, Massie responded, "I've learned not to underestimate Claire over the years. She'll surprise you."

"For sure." Skye nodded. "Now… word on the street is your group and Derrick Harrington's are friendly again?"

"I guess you could call it that."

"I think you _know_ you can call it that," corrected Skye. "It's like this weekend happened and everything changed." She snapped her fingers as they rounded the corner towards the cafeteria. "In fact, just this morning I saw the gimpy one - "

" - hey, he hasn't broken a bone in a pretty long time, and his name is Chr- "

" - and Alicia sharing coffee, and Dylan and Kemp were together, of all people, and I'm pretty sure Cam Fisher bribed one of the kids in my Ethics class so he could sit next to Kristen, who actually didn't look like sh- "

Massie stopped walking, quirking a brow. "Your point, Hamilton?"

"Oh, there is no point, Block!" Skye sang, lifting her leg up to stand in tree pose. "I'm just… _worried_ , you could say. I just want you to be careful."

"Worried," Massie repeated flatly.

Skye nodded her blond head, a sinisterly sweet smile playing on her mouth. "My birthday is in two months," she told her, as if Massie didn't know this, as if Massie hadn't had Skye Hamilton's birthday memorized since the sixth grade. "I'll be having a party, obvi, and it's just… you always seem to fuck things up at my parties. I'd _hate_ for you to ruin everything so soon…"

"Are you threatening me?"

"I might be," said Skye. "I might not. It's hard to tell. Are you rattled?"

 _Yes._

"Of course not," Massie replied smoothly. "The Pretty Committee is in a better place now."

"Glad to hear it." Skye's eyes danced with delight. "I was _sooooo_ worried when Dylan caused that scene at lunch. I thought you girls were over for good. What a malicious thing to do, Massikur."

Massie rolled her eyes at the usage of her old screenname and snapped, "What is this really about, Skye?"

"Nothing," she sang. And then she stepped closer. "You do know Derrick is dating my cousin, right?"

"Sure." She hadn't, actually.

Skye considered her before stepping forward and dropping her voice. "I don't really get along with my cousin," she murmured secretively. Her voice was a ghost of a sound. "She's nice and all, but I still can't figure out how she got him when he could have had me."

"Excuse me?"

"I will compete with you for him," said Skye, loudly this time. "I'd love to add another bracelet to the collection." She raised her arm and shook, her bangles echoing through the hall.

Massie frowned, feeling the heat rise in her body. "I don't… I'm not… I hav… don't you already have a bracelet for him?" she managed to ask, feeling nauseous just remembering how she'd kissed Derrick when he was, like, eleven.

"Yeah, for _kissing_ , but not for…" Skye trailed off, bracelets jingling again.

Massie looked at the girl's wrist, counted the gold bands around it, and felt her breakfast churn uncomfortably in her stomach. There had to be about fifteen or twenty there, all thin and pretty and glimmering in the light. But they were gross, and weird, and why did Skye have them? Why did the DSL Daters do this? Why did she want one _just_ for Derrick?

"This one," Skye started, picking up on Massie's unease, "is from when I slept with Kemp Hurley."

Yup, her breakfast was definitely about to make a reappearance.

"And this one…" She plucked at another one. "This one is from another of your cute new friends. Maybe you can guess who."

Massie didn't want to.

She just stared at them, at the sheer number of bracelets, and wondered how many Skye's group had in total. Wondered if they'd enjoyed themselves each and every time or if they had just did it to get the jewelry, to get the notoriety. Wondered if that was why the football team hung around them all the time. Wondered who the DSL Daters were outside of this… this persona they put on at school.

"There's only three of them left," prompted Skye, "since I haven't gotten Derrick yet, but I will, so that will leave two…"

She didn't want to know, didn't want to know, didn't want to know. If she could cover her ears right now, she would.

Skye's lips moved to form the first letter of the name, but Massie didn't hear it. She heard her own.

"Massie!" Cam's voice carried from down the hall. "Are you coming to lunch or what?"

 _Oh, thank God._

"Yeah," she replied, hoping her voice wasn't as shaky as she felt. "I was just talking to Skye."

"Hey, Cam," Skye purred.

His face remained blank. "Skye," he greeted. He turned his attention back on Massie. "Alicia already got you lunch and she's been complaining for the past seven minutes that she misses you or has to tell you something or - I don't know really, I stopped paying attention."

"Alright." Massie sighed. "I'll be right there… unless we're done here, Skye?"

"Yes, of course. I don't want to keep you from your friends." Skye air-kissed Massie's cheeks. She took one last long look at Cam, winked at Massie, and flounced away. "See you around!"

Massie watched her go, fighting a frown. That girl was pretty, sure, but what was so appealing about her that both Kemp and Cam (at least that was what Massie thought she was getting at) slept with her? And was she wrong to be sort of upset by it? Obviously she was not friends with either of them when it happened, but…

 _You know what_ , she thought, _it doesn't matter. Don't dwell on it._

She had definitely done some things they didn't like. Going to football parties, for one, almost dating Landon Crane for another. But she knew, most definitely, that none of those things settled as uncomfortably in their stomachs as the thought of Skye and Derrick did in hers.

And it was weird that _that_ was what she was most focused on, so, like any normal person, she ignored that entirely and diverted her attention to the ultra cute boy next to her instead.

"Thanks for the saving." She smiled, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "Didn't know I needed it until you showed up."

Cam shrugged. "Just doing what Alicia ordered me to do, but I guess you could say I was also being selfish. I wanted to grab you alone. Can you spare a few seconds?"

"You have as long as it takes us to get to the caf," said Massie, heading in that direction. She was hungry now. Or about to vomit. She wasn't sure.

She heard Cam follow her, his shoes squeaking against the floor. "This isn't exactly how I wanted to ask," he spoke behind her, voice low like he didn't want anyone else to hear, "but are you free tomorrow?"

"What's tomorrow? Tuesday?" Massie wrinkled her nose in thought. "Yeah, there's no cheer practice Tuesdays, so I think so."

"You still do that?" Cam asked. "Cheer?"

"Uhhh, yeah?" she shot back. "Haven't you - oh, wait, you wouldn't. You guys don't go to football games."

"Yeah," Cam agreed lamely, sounding miffed. "Anyway, do you want to go on that redo dinner date? Maybe around sixish?"

Massie nodded her head easily, reaching out to pull open the cafeteria door. "Sushi still or did you want to do something else?"

"Oh, I can eat the hell out of some sashimi," Cam returned.

"I feel like there's an innuendo in there somewhere," Massie teased. She couldn't believe those words came out of her mouth, though, but she was just going to roll with it and hope her cheeks weren't as red as she imagined they were.

Cam must've changed his cologne recently; he no longer smelled like Drakkar Noir as he bent down to bring his mouth to her ear. "I guess you'll just have to wait and find out," he murmured, and suddenly Massie was no longer worried about the crisp scent that surrounded him but rather the way his tongue wrapped around the word _wait_.

It made her want to do the opposite, if she were being honest.

"Maybe we'll both get lucky soon then," Massie flirted back, making a split second decision to poke him on the nose before she tossed her hair over her shoulder and left him in the dust.

Her friends had listened to her whining in the group; one of the tables next to eighteen had been pushed together and the kids from either seventeen or nineteen were now across the room at two. All of them were there, her friends, minus Cam. Dylan, in a really comfy looking argyle sweater, looked put out as Chris and Kemp ate from her plate and not theirs. Josh and Kristen were in what looked like a heated discussion, Claire was flipping through a textbook, Alicia was sitting beside two empty seats, and Derrick was -

Derrick had invited Sadie, it appeared.

Nothing weird about that, Massie supposed, and she continued on, trying to figure out what the girl was wearing today. It looked like she was in only greys and blacks. A waste.

"Massie!" Alicia trilled. "Thank god. Get over here."

The girl slid into the seat beside her, cocked her head to the side, and started unwrapping the portabello mac and cheese Alicia had snagged her. Cam took the chair on her other side, his attention going back to his half-eaten turkey burger. The others greeted Massie casually, hardly bothering to leave their own conversations and activities, and Dylan let out a low whine when Chris slapped her fork away from his food (which was the same that she was eating).

"You'll never believe what happened in math today," Alicia said as soon as Massie started chewing. "Missy Cambridge came up to me and she told me to tell you to quote, unquote _watch your back_ \- "

"Skye already threatened me in the hallway."

"Did she say anything about the" - Alicia looked around, dropping her voice to a soft whisper - "about the party she threw at the Briarwood pool? The one that is probably the reason the school co-"

" _Shh_ ," Massie hissed. "I know which party it was. And no, she didn't, she mentioned… you know, it wasn't important. Did Missy mention the party to _you_?"

Alicia nodded furiously, eyes wide. "She said… she said they could pin it on us if… if you got in her way? In her way of what, Mass?"

"I have no idea," Massie mumbled, though she had a clue. She snuck a glance at Derrick and Sadie. "I'd like to know why she thinks she can pin it on _us_ when half the grade was there. We don't know who actually - "

"I mean, when it really comes down to it, it was the wave pool on the roof," Alicia retorted.

"That's what the reporters said," Massie reminded her, stirring her macaroni, "but if they find out that a bunch of rich girls broke into their brother school to - to - what did we even _do_?"

Alicia swallowed, covertly looking at the rest of the table to ensure no one was listening. "I don't know. Drank? I hardly remember it because, like, the _school collap_ \- "

" - thank you for the flowers," Sadie's voice rose, drowning out Alicia's rambling. Massie bit down on her forkful of food, watching her. "They were beautiful, but I'm not really a fan of peonies."

Massie choked.

Alicia giggled.

"Alright, wow," Dylan cut in, waving her plastic knife around. "Be grateful he even got you flowers. Derrick's never gotten _me_ flowers when I've been upset with him."

"That's because you're the worst and never have legitimate reasons for being upset with me," Derrick snapped at Dylan. "Don't be rude."

Bringing her water to her lips, Massie tried to keep her coughing to a minimum.

Dylan looked like she wanted to say more, but Alicia, who was actually the worst, not Dylan, interjected with, "Massie, aren't peonies your favorite flower?"

"Um…" Everyone was staring at her, except for Derrick. "Yeah, I guess," she elected to say, "but I do like other flowers also. If anyone wants to get me some, that is. Peonies are not the only ones I will accept…"

"Tell me more," Chris prompted, grabbing Claire's notebook and pencil ("Hey!" the girl shrieked) to take the appropriate notes.

Massie rolled her eyes but rattled off the other four types of flowers she thought were pretty.

Sadie Meltzer excused herself shortly after, saying something about meeting up with her study group in the library. Massie ignored the thoughtful look she gave her as she left.

* * *

 **TUESDAY**

* * *

It was weird, Massie mused, sitting across from Cam in a formal setting like this. The lights were dim, the music jazzy and light, and all around them couples - like emotionally and financially successful young adult couples - were giggling and talking about their days.

Okay, so maybe it wasn't _weird_ , but... it was definitely something else. It sort of felt like they shouldn't be doing this. That they didn't belong in this environment. Maybe it was because they were still in the clothes they wore to school, or that Massie was hyper aware of her backpack in his car, filled to the brim with homework she most definitely would not do that night. Maybe it was because they were not supposed to be going on things that constituted as _dates_.

Or maybe it was just because Josh was sitting next to her and once again she and Cam were unable to be in each other's presence alone.

(Maybe that was a sign all in itself.)

He'd just shown up at their table, claiming he'd been waiting to pick up take-out, but now that they were here, could he sit with them? There was no logical (or rational) explanation for why they would say no, and he would most certainly question that, so they welcomed the third person and split all of their orders between them. Josh was lucky he had good taste in sushi.

Cam caught her eye, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards.

She nudged his foot with hers.

Josh prattled on, unaware of their ignoring him, and Cam slurped at his sushi, never once breaking eye contact. Massie felt her cheeks heat up, remembering their conversation from yesterday, remembering how she had wanted to turn around and drag him into an unused janitor's closet.

She tapped her fingers on her thigh, trying to avoid looking at her watch and sighing exasperatedly at Josh. He was awesome, he was her best guy friend, even if they were nowhere as close as they used to be - she knew they would get there again - but she and Cam definitely should have just ordered in at her house.

Things would be going _a lot_ differently if that were the case.

"What do you _mean_ ," Josh demanded, turning to face her, and taking her attention off the bow of Cam's lips, "you still do cheerleading?"

Massie blinked at him, mid-chew. "Exactly that? Why would I stop?"

"Because the football team is gross."

"So is the soccer team."

"Last I checked, we were _not_ , but tha-"

"I told you guys I wouldn't base my decisions on things around your petty rivalries," Massie interrupted, waving her chopstick. "And I most certainly would not start doing so _after_ our friendships were over."

"Our friendship was never ' _over._ '" Josh air-quoted, aghast.

"Sure, but how does that even make sense?" she inquired. "We did not interact for two years and this is, like, the second time you've mentioned you've aaaaalways been friends with me?"

Josh gaped at her, a fish out of water, and Cam snorted into his miso soup. "You hate me," the former whined. "I can see clearly now."

"I don't _hate_ you." Massie giggled at his crestfallen face. All a show. He knew he was her favorite. "I looooove you!"

"Not enough to hang out with me," he whined. "I feel so neglected. Like an abandoned pet."

Massie slid closer to him, squeezing his cheeks with her palms. "We can hang out this weekend," she told him. "I'm sure my dad would love to see you again."

"You're like a five year old," Cam noted while Josh straightened, significantly happier.

"I feel like you kind of want to see my dad more than you want to hang out with me," added Massie thoughtfully.

Josh huffed at Cam, stealing the last sweet potato roll from his plate, and said to Massie, "Well, obviously, Will is the man."

Massie tugged on his ear.

After twenty minutes, Josh grabbed his mom's order and Massie chastised him for starving her. He mussed up Massie's hair, fist bumped Cam, and left. Another ten later, Cam was swinging his keys around his pointer finger, humming the tune of the song playing in the restaurant as they exited, leaving the jazzy music and oddly intimate vibe behind them. Massie shuffled after Cam, texting Alicia, and almost slammed right into his back because she wasn't paying attention. They'd apparently made it to his car; it was not as far of a walk as it had been when they'd arrived.

"I feel like this getting food together thing is not working for us," Cam commented. "Our friends always seem to find us."

"In Alicia's defense, she was there when you asked me for pizza," Massie replied, "but she's also incredibly nosy."

Cam chuckled and the sound sent shivers down Massie's spine as it settled somewhere in her belly, warm and content. "And Josh is obsessed with you."

"Can you blame him?"

"You're right," agreed Cam. "Do you want to do something else or should I just take you home?" He unlocked his car doors but did not bother to get inside.

"There's about an eighty percent chance someone might spot us elsewhere and join in on our shenanigans."

Massie texted Alicia her decision on which picture she should Instagram and pocketed her phone, looking up. She hadn't realized how close Cam was; if it weren't so dark, she could probably make out all the different shades of green in his one eye. That was one she liked best; forget the blue one.

"This is hardly shenanigans," Cam murmured, voice smooth and soft, gentle like a caress. There was something in his tone that sent a _zing!_ through her, something in the look on his face that heightened the _want_ speeding through her bloodstream. Something was about to happen; she could feel it. "We can do better, I think."

"You think we can?" she returned, just as soft, just as charged.

Cam's answering smile was slow, and the gleam in his eye tempting, and the next thing Massie knew they were connected by the mouth, stumbling into the backseat of his Mercedes. She regretted complaining about the distance of their parking spot earlier, all shadowy and hidden slightly by trees and good distance away from the sushi place. It made her wonder if this had been Cam's intention all along.

But she didn't have time to bother with the thought of him sitting through dinner thinking about her like that, didn't _want_ to, actually, not when he was so good with his tongue. It was hard to focus on anything else.

He gripped her hips roughly, fingers digging into the skin there, and pulled her into his lap. Her knee slammed against the side of the door, kind of bruising in a way, but she ignored it, biting down on his lower lip. Her heart pounded against her ribcage. She wondered if he could hear it. If he could feel it.

He groaned as she wriggled on top of him, the sound vibrating against her tongue, and Massie gasped, threading her fingers through his hair, tugging, tugging, tugging. He tore his mouth from hers, pressing open-mouthed kisses against her jawline, down her neck, licking at her collarbone -

She dug her teeth into the material of his flannel shirt, and her hands tore at the buttons down his front. His own whacked hers out of the way, palming her chest, sliding down her stomach.

"Up," he commanded, voice rough and husky and breathless, and she pushed herself on her knees without a second thought, hovering over his groin.

Cam's fingers deftly unbuttoned her jeans and pushed them down as far as he could manage. The cool air against her thighs made her breath sharply through her nose. The warmth of his hand on her her ass, on her inner thigh, slipping under her lacy underwear - thank _god_ she wore something cute, not that it seemed to matter - made her mewl.

Cam's pupils were blown wide when they made eye contact and he brought her head down with his free hand, cupping the back of her neck. His touch in both places and the overwhelming feeling of being helpless against him made Massie shiver. He grinned against her lips, whispered, "Now tell me what to do," and Massie thought she was going to _fucking die_.

Two hours later, she was very much alive, and she knew they would never go on another dinner date again. They would just skip to dessert.

* * *

 **WEDNESDAY**

* * *

"Hello?"

"Hey, are you free right now?"

"Um, sort of? I'm at the library."

"Kay, be there in five."

"Be here in five for _what_?"

"We're getting froyo."

"Uh, I'm really trying to get this Bio thing done today," Alicia said, but she found herself in a booth at Pinkberry anyway, with a huge thing of green tea flavored ice cream topped with gummy bears for her and Chris to share, his treat.

She eyed him curiously. "What's up?" she asked, debating reaching out to take the first spoonful.

"Can't a guy hang out with his friend without there being an ulterior motive?" he shot back.

"No," Alicia replied immediately. "You always want something."

Chris frowned at her, mouth falling into a pout. "I want nothing from you except your affection and attention."

Alicia rolled her eyes, leaning forward and snatching a gummy bear from the ice cream. "Tell me what you want," she said.

He smiled like he had a secret, blue gaze sparkling behind his glasses. She admired his teeth as she waited for a response; they were nice and straight. "Your affection and attention," he repeated.

" _Christopher_."

"I wanna talk," he revealed. A lock of his hair fell in his eyes. He didn't move it. Alicia wanted to, but she kept her hands to herself, quirking a brow instead. "Okay, I wanna gossip. Will you gossip with me?"

Alicia pulled the froyo towards her, heaving a hefty spoonful to her mouth. It melted on her tongue, cold and sweet. "Gossip about what?" she asked, hoping he wasn't going to ask about Massie and Cam.

Massie had sent her literal _paragraphs_ detailing their sexcapades in his car, all caps shouting about his mouth and his hands and this interesting thing he did with his tongue. It had made Alicia the teensiest bit jealous - she hadn't kissed a boy since she made the mistake of getting with Danny Robbins at his Fourth of July party - and so she had lived through these texts.

Like.

If Massie could've drawn diagrams about what happened, Alicia would've greatly appreciated it. _Recommended_ it, even. She hadn't been able to look at Cam today without thinking about those messages. She knew he'd caught her staring one too many times, but she was just so _curious_.

Despite all of that, she knew Chris couldn't know about them. Or she hoped. Massie and Plovert's relationship was kind of weird, kind of reminiscent of Massie's old friendship with Josh and a mix of something else entirely, but that did not necessarily mean he knew what she was doing. What she was feeling.

Unless he did. And that changed a lot of things.

Alicia swallowed her ice cream, waiting for his response.

He blinked at her, her heart beat a little faster, nervous, and he said, "Skye."

She released the breath she wasn't aware she was holding, still skeptical but less worried about her life, her friendships, and the state of the world. "Why do you want to talk about Skye?"

"Well, I don't wanna talk about Skye," Chris amended, "I wanna talk about the party at Briarwood, you know the one Missy threatened you and Massie with?"

"How do you know that?" Alicia demanded, smacking his hand away from the ice cream.

"Babe, I'm in your math class," Plovert replied. "I sit right behind you."

"You ar…? Oh, yeah, you are." Alicia nodded thoughtfully. "You don't really talk in that class."

"Yeah, that's because I'm doing _math_ ," retorted Chris. "You don't do anything but talk."

Alicia shrugged her thin shoulders. "I have obligations," she responded. "Like, I have to be nice to Missy and everyone else. It's part of my role in the Pretty Committee."

"Your role?"

"If you haven't noticed, I kind of know everything before everyone else does. I need to be friendly and talkative so people tell me things."

"Sounds tiring. And sort of like a job." Chris leaned his cheek against his palm. "Do math instead, maybe. What's your grade in that class?"

"None of your business!" Alicia tossed a wadded up napkin at him.

He let it hit him in the forehead, chuckling. "That bad, huh?"

"Terrible," agreed Alicia. She ate more ice cream. "I don't know what's happening half the time."

"That's because you're talking!"

"It is not! It's because I don't understand Calculus! How I got in that class is beyond me."

"Well… you did okay in pre-Calc, probably," Chris reasoned. "Do you need help?"

"I tried going to her extra help sessions but that doesn't stick either," Alicia admitted, wrinkling her nose. She hated being bad at things and, contrary to popular belief, being bad at school was something that really upset her. "Kristen tried, too, but, like, I can never take her seriously when she tries to teach me things…"

"I'll do it."

"Thanks for the offer, but I'll probably just laugh at you," Alicia replied. "Like, not in a mean way or anything, but -"

"Alicia, let me try," he spoke over her, ignoring her protests. "It can't be any worse, you know? You hardly know me. It can't be weird for you."

"I do know you!" she argued. "Have you forgotten we've hung out like every day this month?"

Chris's gaze was extra twinkly as he looked at her. Alicia couldn't figure out if she hated it or not, but she maintained eye contact anyway. "I will never forget you forcing me and Kemp to help you find an outfit for your dad's company's benefit gala," he said. "I've never hated the mall more."

"Hey," Alicia shot back, "I looked so good in that jumpsuit."

"Yeah, you did," Chris concurred. "An excellent choice."

Alicia's stomach did this weird flip-flopping thing and she tucked her hair behind her ear, the compliment making her feel sort of… bashful? Embarrassed? (An Alicia Rivera first, whatever it was.)

"Fine," she said, tongue heavy, moving past her weird feelings. "When does the soccer team practice? I'm busy directly after school every day but Tuesday, from seven to nine on Thursdays, and most of the morning Sunday."

"We practice every day," Chris alerted her. "What's your family's view on Sunday dinners?"

"No view," said Alicia. "Doesn't really matter."

"We can do Sunday afternoons, then, like threeish," he suggested. "Or, like, whenever you need help. We don't have to get together every Sunday or anything."

"We probably should. For now." Alicia scooped up some froyo, offered up the green glob to Chris. "I might as well have gotten a four on the last test."

Chris licked the dessert off the spoon. "Okay."

And then they were talking about something else, this funny thing Plovert saw Carrie Randolph do, and she was telling him about her Bio project, which was stupid and hard and unnecessary. He moved his seat, sliding in beside her, and now he was too close, it felt, but she said nothing, surrounded by his very unique scent. Woodsy and warm and content. Chris Plovert kind of smelled how you felt around Christmastime. If only Alicia could bottle that up somehow, she'd make millions.

His change in seat made sharing the ice cream easier, he claimed, before going into a story about Derrick, Josh, and soccer practice. She shot him a look, not quite believing him - he wasn't even eating their snack, _she_ was - but didn't bother to fight him. She'd easily deterred him from asking any more questions about that Briarwood party, so she considered whatever this was a win.

* * *

 **2015**

* * *

 _Alicia grimaced, grip tightening around her red Solo cup. She was normally all about the party scene, had been the first one in the Pretty Committee to start drinking, was the one with all the connections, but this…_

 _This was too much, even for her._

 _How Skye had managed to break into Briarwood Academy, parade "only the best of the best" up four floors to the roof, and throw what was most likely going to be called the party of the year in the new wave pool without anyone noticing was beyond her. Alicia had a bad feeling about it. It was squirming and settling around in her stomach like bad sushi._

 _They had to leave._

 _She knocked her mixed drink back, pushed herself onto her tiptoes, and searched the crowd for her friends. Claire looked like she was going to cry over by Cam, who was - was he flirting with Olivia Ryan? Were Cam and Claire broken up again? For all Alicia knew, Claire was just too drunk to handle herself; that was the case every time they went out, but Claire always insisted on keeping up with them._

 _Dylan, who_ was _good at holding her alcohol, was keeping her distance from Kemp. They'd broken up a few weeks ago and were trying to be friends, but it didn't take a rocket scientist to tell that Kemp hated that decision. The redhead was talking with the other not as important players on the soccer team, holding two drinks._

 _Over by the refreshment table, close to where Skye was holding court, Massie was giggling at Derrick, their faces so close Alicia couldn't tell if they were talking to each other or kissing. She knew her placement was deliberate, though - Massie didn't trust Skye either._

 _Kristen was the only smart one; she'd turned down the invite, not wanting to sneak out of her apartment for this. While that caused a fight with Massie, Alicia agreed wholeheartedly. She wished she'd stayed home. The looks on Skye and the DSL Daters' faces were making her uneasy. There was a reason for this party, she knew, but what was it? What were they_ doing _? Why did she get all of them here?_

" _Need a refill?" Chris Plovert popped by, casually dropping his arm around Alicia's shoulder. She could feel his racing heart as she was pulled into his side._

" _No," she said, pinching her cup. "I need to go home."_

" _Home?" he echoed. "I'll walk you."_

 _Alicia shook her head. "I need to go home with everybody, but…" She waved her free hand around, showing him where their group was scattered._

 _Chris frowned. "Are you alright?"_

 _She looked up at him, squinting. He looked drunker than he sounded, face flushed, eyes shining, his expression between relaxed and concerned for her. Alicia smiled at him, he smiled back, and for a split second she wondered what it would be like to kiss him._

 _She said, "Yep," and swallowed roughly. Where had that thought come from?_

 _He shrugged, oblivious to her inner turmoil, and squeezed her. "Okay."_

 _He was saying something else, but she wasn't sure what. Her attention was captured by an unlikely pair just past Chris. They were by the stairwell - Skye Hamilton and Layne Abeley - and Alicia was extremely interested in them._

" _Hey, I'll be right back," she said quickly to Chris, "I want to get another drink."_

" _You just said you didn't want one."_

" _Changed my mind," she called over her shoulder._

 _Alicia let her hair cover her face, hiding her as best she could, as she sidled up to Kemp, the person closest to Skye and Layne._

" _Hey, Riv," he greeted, sounding kind of sad and annoyed. She would care appropriately once she figured out why the self-proclaimed Queen of Westchester and Layme Abeley were together._

 _She only heard bits and pieces, but what she did hear piqued her interest. She felt Kemp play with her hair, twisting pieces around his fingers._

" _...a bear…"_

" _...will pay whatever you want…"_

" _...camera inside it, needs tweaking…"_

" _You want me to find a bear and fix a_ camera _inside it?" Layne demanded, obviously not getting the sneaky, quiet memo. Alicia loved her for a split second. "What the hell are you - "_

" _I said no questions," Skye hissed. "Do what I ask and I'll give you whatever you want."_

" _All I want is for you to leave me alone."_

" _Done." Skye nodded. "Once you do this for me, I'll never speak to you again."_

 _Layne eyed her suspiciously, pursing her lips, like she wasn't sure Skye was telling her the truth._

" _I'll also give you fifteen hundred dollars," offered Skye, waving a rose-colored envelope in Layne's face._

 _The youngest Abeley grabbed the money, tossed her hair over her shoulder, and slipped away. She was wearing a fanny pack. Alicia hadn't noticed that before._

" _Leesh?"_

" _Hm?" Alicia hummed, looking at Kemp for the first time in ten minutes. "Sorry. What's up?"_

 _He frowned, rubbing his knuckle over her cheekbone. "Nothing." He sighed. "It's just… do you have to go home tonight?"_

" _My parents think I'm at Massie's," she answered him, "so no."_

 _Kemp's eyes left her face, found someone else's. He blinked, looked away, and Alicia knew immediately he'd seen Dylan, who was probably all over Paul Danno or someone else at this point. She truly had no tact._

" _Can you sleep over?"_

 _Alicia lifted her hand, pressed her fingers to his hair. "Of course," she murmured, and he smiled, turning his head and kissing her wrist._

" _Ew," he mumbled, licking his lips, "your perfume is really strong."_

" _You know I always put it on my wrists!" she chastised._

 _He snorted._

 _Behind him, Skye Hamilton was talking to Missy Cambridge. The way they were wrapped around each other, heads together, reminded Alicia of her and Massie, best friends that hardly kept secrets from each other. Best friends that needed to work together to keep their group from crumbling._

 _Luckily for Alicia, Skye and Missy hadn't realized they were talking loud._

" _She did it?"_

" _Yeah," said Skye. "Abeley's an annoying loser but I remember from Chris that she's some sort of fucking tech genius. If she can't fix it, we're ruined."_

 _Missy shook her head. "Even without ESP, we're still ten times better than Messy and her dumb group of skanks."_

 _Skye shot her a warning look. They didn't notice Alicia and Kemp were right there. Good thing Kemp was stuck in his head, too, or else he would've decked the blond for talking about them like that._

" _I just…" Skye sounded nervous, worried. "I don't even really care about them, that's not why I need it fixed."_

" _I know," said Missy._

" _I need to know why," stressed Skye, biting her full lower lip. "What did I do? Why did -" She paused, clearing her throat, trying to fix her face to one of utter indifference. It didn't work. "I gave him everything he wanted," she hissed. "What does Audrey fucking Capeos have that I don't? If he wanted more blowjobs I would have - "_

 _Missy shushed her gently, smoothing her frizzing curls. "Honey, you're close to yelling."_

" _I'm so mad!" Skye declared, pulling Missy's hand out of her hair. "Danny is - "_

" _Danny is not here tonight," her friend cut in. "If he can do whatever he wants with Audrey Capeos, you can do whatever you want with anyone here."_

" _You're totally right," Skye agreed. "Why should I let myself get so upset over his wandering dick? I can wander, too."_

 _Missy let out a cheer, punched the air, and took Skye's hand. She led her away._

 _Alicia filed all of this for later, when she and Massie were alone to discuss it at length. The rest of the Pretty Committee would found out later, of course, but telling them before her alpha was a no-no._

 _Unfortunately, though, no one found out: Briarwood Academy collapsed the next day and in the chaos that followed, Alicia forgot all about it._

* * *

 **THURSDAY**

* * *

 _ **Cam Fisher**_ : hello  
 _ **Cam Fisher**_ : would u do me the honor of accompanying me to get burritos  
 _ **Cam Fisher**_ : i will pay. get all the add-ons u wish

 _ **Cam Fisher**_ : KRISTEN

 _ **Cam Fisher**_ : helloooooooo

 _ **Cam Fisher**_ : the burritos are mad at you

 _ **Cam Fisher**_ : u leave me no choice

The doorbell rang, jolting Kristen out of the half-nap she was taking over her Physics textbook. One look at the clock alerted her that she'd sort of fallen asleep for about an hour. Drool wet the chapter she was reading and her workbook was lying flat on the floor.

Science was boring, it seemed, or she was just really tired.

Both, probably. Soccer practice had been brutal today. Her knee was red and bruised from when she stumbled and slammed it into the ground. She kind of wanted to saw it off. It ached.

Her mother hadn't answered the door in time, she assumed, because the doorbell rang again. Marsha shouted that she was coming, Kristen forced herself out of her bed, rubbing her eyes.

"Oh, what a surprise!" she heard Marsha trill. "I just got off the phone with your mom!"

 _Who the hell_ , Kristen thought.

"Funny," the visitor returned, all cheeky and kind of flirty, and Kristen knew immediately she wanted to smack him. "How's Pamela today? I haven't seen her yet."

"She's good," Marsha told him. "She wanted my pot pie recipe. I think she's making it this weekend."

"Sounds about right. My brother's coming home."

"Lovely. Are you here to see Kristen?"

"If she's free," said Cam. "She didn't answer any of my texts."

"She's in her room." Marsha definitely let him in. _Ugh_. "Doing homework, I think."

"Thanks, Ma."

Kristen debated pretending to be asleep, thought about cleaning her bed off, wondered if she should make sure she didn't look like the walking dead. She did none of those things, though, this was just _Cam_ , and she remained on her mattress, staring at the welt purpling on her leg.

He didn't even bother knocking. How rude.

"Are you ignoring me?" he demanded, swinging a plastic bag from the local Mexican place onto her desk.

He had absolutely no manners. Kristen could not stand him.

"I was trying to," she told him.

"Ouch." Cam dropped into her computer chair, rifling through his takeout, clearly not at all upset with her terse attitude. "I got you extra guac and covered your burrito in cheese. Do you still like it that way?"

Kristen glared at his back, strong shoulders practically straining against his gray henley. "Yes," she allowed, but only because she was hungry.

"Awesome. Come sit."

And then, two seconds later: "Do you still have that voodoo doll you made of me? Is it to my likeness?"

Startled, Kristen laughed, one of those cackles of hers that started deep down and made it sound like she had a cold. She could tell by the way Cam's posture changed - less straight back, more slouched - that he was pleased with her reaction. She wondered if he was just as uncomfortable about their newly rekindled friendship as she was.

"It's pretty bad," she told him honestly, getting up to pull another seat to her desk. It was the rocking chair pushed up against the wall by the window; she always read in it. "The only things that remotely looks like you are the buttons I used for the eyes."

Cam nodded, handing over her burrito. "That's really all you need. Everything else is unnecessary."

"I also don't know where it is," she offered up. "I don't remember if I threw it out or if Beckham ripped its head off."

"Beckham!" Cam exclaimed. "How dare he! I thought we had something special."

"Clearly not," said Kristen. "I think he hates you."

"Where is he? Let's ask him."

"Probably hiding from you," Kristen shot back, biting into her dinner. "He needs time, Cam. You hurt him real bad."

Moving quickly, Cam turned his head, looking stricken, and pulled a piece of beef out of his burrito. "If I feed him, will he love me again?"

Kristen didn't answer, chewing.

"Kristen, this is _important_!"

She shrugged. "I dunno. Like I said, you've ruined him. He won't go near any other boys. He really clawed up Dempsey's arm when he tried to pet him."

"That's my boy." Cam nodded very seriously, looking like a proud parent. Kristen rolled her eyes. "Destroy Dempsey Solomon, Becks."

There was a meow from underneath Kristen's bed. It sounded interested and friendly, but Kristen knew better: her cat would really make Cam work for his friendship again… which was probably what Kristen should have done, but… what can you do, really? He bought her a burrito.

Cam looked from Kristen to her bed and back again, face brightening.

Before she knew it, before she could even react appropriately, Cam dropped to his knees, sticking his head into the darkness beneath her mattress. He pushed the storage bins out of his way, all but wriggling himself further and further until all Kristen could see of him was his butt and his legs.

 _Not a terrible view_ , Kristen mused. Then she wrinkled her nose, banishing that thought - not that there was anything wrong with admiring a nice butt, you know, but _still_ \- and she continued to eat her dinner.

He paid her no mind for the rest of the time he was at her house, only occasionally yelling at her to let her know _oh my god, he licked my hand_ and _Kristen, he ate the meat_ and _ow, what the fuck, why did he bite me?_

After a lot of petting and cooing and Kristen handing Cam other pieces of his burrito, Beckham was purring up a storm, but, in perfect cat fashion, he gave Cam the gift of an angry red scratch across his entire palm as payment for ending their friendship so abruptly.

Kristen told him he'd have to try harder next time. Beckham was hard to please, especially after you'd already spurned him.

.

Cam's Snap Story was, like, five minutes long, an endless loop of her cat with the caption _MY FRIEND_.

Kristen replied: _acquaintances at best_.

Cam sent her the middle finger emoji.

* * *

 **FRIDAY**

* * *

"Hey, pretty lady," Chris greeted, pulling a headphone out of his ear. "Why so glum?"

Massie wiped the snobby, irritated look from her face, trying to clear her mind of Skye Hamilton, Missy Cambridge, and the threat of leaking the Pretty Committee's apparent involvement in the collapsing of Briarwood Academy. It didn't really leave her, a buzzing reminder in the back of her mind to _stay on guard_ , but she managed to look up at Chris and smile. "Cold," she said, pulling her flimsy multi-colored knit cardigan tighter around her body.

"It's October, babe, you need to wear more layers." Chris tapped the top of her head to the beat of whatever song he was listening to. "I have a sweatshirt in my car. Want it?"

"I'm gonna look like an idiot."

"You already do, so nothing new there," rebutted Chris, ducking away from her swatting hand. "Come on."

Massie rolled her eyes but allowed him to lead her back into the student parking lot. She was _that_ cold. Or she just really wanted a distraction.

"You wanna talk about Skye?" he asked, slipping past Shelby Wexler and her crew. They eyed them warily, interest piqued, but Chris merely offered the short blond one a wave.

"Skye?" Massie returned, hugging herself. "What makes you think I'd wanna talk about Skye?"

He shot her a look, eyebrow raised. "I'm incredibly good at eavesdropping. And I saw those weirdly friendly glares you two shared earlier."

This gave Massie pause and she watched Chris fish through his pockets for his keys, raking a hand through her hair. The only time she'd mentioned Skye she'd spoken to Alicia at lunch at the beginning of the week. She'd kept it on the DL since then, not even bothering to tell the rest of the girls until she was sure what was going on. Had he heard that? He'd been all the way on the other side of the table… had they been that loud? Who else knew?

But she asked none of this. "What do you already know?"

"Absolutely nothing," he admitted, unlocking his backseat and pulling out what looked like the softest and most comfortable navy pullover Massie had ever seen. "Alicia would not budge when I asked her. But if you want to talk about it, I'm all ears. No judgment here."

She took the jacket from him to avoid his gaze - sincere and honest and too kind to be directed at her - and pulled it over her head without a second thought. She wished she could have stayed inside it, engulfed by Chris Plovert's comfortable scent, but that was impossible.

"I dunno, she…" Massie licked her lips, accidentally removing her gloss. "It's not even her that should be worrying me, it's Missy, she said something to Alicia that… that's kind of bad, like so bad I can't even mention it to _you_ , but what's worse… What's worse is _that's_ not what concerns me."

It sort of all came out like word vomit, and she knew she trusted him, but it was still weird to talk to someone other than Alicia or Bean about her problems and insecurities. And here she was, confessing that Kemp sleeping with Skye irked her, that she didn't understand why Cam would do it, that she was irrationally upset that Skye was trying to start something with her over her own _cousin's_ boyfriend, which was messed up on so many levels.

Chris sort of gave her this look when she mentioned Derrick, like she should understand why Skye was coming to her about him in the first place. Well, she didn't, thanks, and she finished her rant with a gasp, overwhelmed, once again forcing herself to look anywhere other than his face.

"Get over here." Chris patted the trunk of his car and Massie clamoured on top of it, feet swinging over the cement of the parking lot. She watched her shoes interestedly, shoving her chin into the sweatshirt. She could feel Chris's body heat, sort of shifted her body into it, and immediately hated the weakness she was showing.

If she were smart, she would've kept her mouth shut and froze to death all day.

But here she was.

Chris forced her closer, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, and she leaned her head on his, still looking at the ground. This was nice, she guessed.

"I can tell you one thing," he started, "Kemp is stupid. I'm sure you know this."

She nodded.

"And I can tell you another thing: he was, like, in a terrible place when he slept with her." In the distance, the bell rung, signalling first period. They didn't move. "He also got punched in the face by Danny Robbins."

Massie rolled her eyes. "What is it about that boy and getting punched?"

"He's an obnoxious asshole," answered Chris. "And he provokes a lot of people. He used to have anger management problems."

"Used to?"

"I mean, he's still outrageous and oversteps constantly" - it was like they were both thinking about the scene he caused at Dylan's party - "but it's less of an anger thing now. It comes from a good place, especially when it comes to you and Alicia. He, like… feels oddly protective of you two, I don't know why. I personally think you can handle yourselves." Massie mumbled her thanks, unsure if she should be honored or annoyed by Kemp. "But moral of the story," Chris continued, "he boxes now and that gives him an outlet."

"Right. I don't know if that explains why he slept with Skye, though." Massie paused. "Or why Cam did."

"Cam… he really regrets that, I think, but he doesn't let anyone know. It was part of that hazing-initiation thing for the soccer team."

" _Ew, what_?"

Chris sighed. "We all had to do something incredibly dumb and Cam's was to have sex with Skye."

"Why?"

"They told him he had to sleep with an upperclassman. He picked her."

"Not like it's hard to get her in bed." Massie scoffed, then paused. Cam didn't think that about _her_ now, did he? "He did this in ninth grade?"

"Yeah. It was, like, right after the Claire thing so I think he was trying to prove some kind of point, though I don't know much about it." He played with the fraying cuff of the sleeve around Massie's hand. "Derrick probably knows the whole thing, but he's never spilled. He's good like that. Keeps secrets. I, apparently, do not."

There was something in the way he said that that told her he wouldn't do that to her. He'd keep hers. Take them to the grave, probably. Maybe it was because she felt safe and comfortable telling him things. She'd been accidentally doing it for the past month and a half. It was like she knew he would never betray her trust.

"Would you do it?" she asked quietly, feeling vulnerable for some reason. "If she asked?"

"Nah," Chris answered. "But if you did… yeah."

"Chriiiiiiis," Massie whined, "I'm being serious!"

"Hey, look at me," he murmured, using the hand that wasn't wrapped around her to grab her chin. "So am I."

And much to her surprise, but not really, if she thought about it - it sort of _made sense_ given what they were talking about - he ducked his head down and pressed his mouth to hers. It was sweet and fast. She hadn't even had time to close her eyes.

"Gross." She giggled at him when he pulled away.

" _Gross_!" he squawked back. "So ungrateful! That's the last time I try to be a good friend!"

"A good - what, how in the world was kissing me being a good friend?"

Chris wrinkled his nose. "You looked all sad. I figured you could use some cheering up."

"You could've, like, told me a joke or read me a story or sang me a song," Massie listed off. "You didn't have to manhandle me!"

" _Manhandle_?" he repeated, eyes twinkling in amusement. "That lasted literally less than two seconds. It was _nothing_."

"Always kissing my face - "

" - I kissed your nose one time - "

" - and forcing me to sleep in dog beds with you - "

" - you invited me into it - "

" - and making me hug you - "

" - you have literally never hugged me once, do not confuse me with Kemp - "

" - and I will not stand for it!" she declared.

"Fine." Chris slowly unwound himself from her, jumping off his car. "If that's what you want, I'll just go then. No more friendship talks for you."

Massie frowned. This was not what she wanted at all. "Waaaaait," she said, dragging out the word. "Don't go. I'm still sad."

"I wasn't lying, Mass," he said, "if you ask, I will sleep with you, even though you are one hundred percent not my type. I will do it for the greater good of the world."

"Chris, you're so mean," she shot back, sniffing indignantly. "You can't just kiss a girl and then tell her she's not your type."

He grinned at her, and then sobered considerably. "Look," he said, "you're twenty times hotter than Skye Hamilton, so do us both a favor and stop moping over things that happened literally years ago and worry about right now."

"You're right," she agreed, joining him back on the ground. "There are so many other things that need my attention, like your bad kissing."

Chris gasped theatrically, holding his hands out so Massie could deposit her books in his arms - the books for the two classes she already missed. "Bad kissing!" he exclaimed. "You don't even know how I kiss!"

"Thank goodness," she teased, "because if _that_ was any indication, you are te _rrrrrrrr_ ible."

.

 _ **BOCDSecrets**_ posted a new photo  
 _When those rumors were circulating last month about_ _ **cplov47**_ _and_ _ **mmmblock**_ _dating, I didn't believe them. Maybe I should have?  
_ view all 157 comments  
 **ripplebax** oh my god?  
 **kemphurley** WHAT  
 **kemphurley** CAN SOMEONE ANSWER MY TEXTS  
 **becbrie** an interesting development _**skyeham mcambridge llrubin hsprout**_

.

 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ added _**Dylan Marvil**_ , _**Kristen Gregory**_ , and _**Claire Lyons**_ to _**DOWN WITH MASSIE**_  
 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : Attachment: 1 image  
 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : W T F  
 _ **Dylan Marvil**_ : i was lit about to drop this in the other group chat, i need answers pronto  
 _ **Claire Lyons**_ : so why are we in this chat then  
 _ **Kristen Gregory**_ : and why are our group chat names so weird these days  
 _ **Kristen Gregory**_ : are we really trying to take massie down for w/e this was  
 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : IM SCREAMING  
 _ **Claire Lyons**_ : oh is that u? I can hear you all the way from my math class  
 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : now is NOT the time claire

.

 _ **Josh Hotz**_ : hey excuse me  
 _ **Josh Hotz**_ : if ur cold ask me for a jacket, not that loser

.

 _ **Kemp Hurley**_ posted in _**boyzzz**_ : ANSWER ME CHRISTOPHER  
 _ **Chris Plovert**_ : lol its really not what anyone thinks it is  
 _ **Chris Plovert**_ : that instagram is really trying to stir the pot rn  
 _ **Kemp Hurley**_ : WHAT WAS IT  
 _ **Cam Fisher**_ : i wish that instagram didnt exist it makes life so dramatic for no reason  
 _ **Chris Plovert**_ : thank u  
 _ **Chris Plovert**_ : a guy cnt kiss a girl for .04 seconds bc shes sad these days w/o the whole world knowing jeez  
 _ **Derrick Harrington removed Chris Plovert from the group  
Kemp Hurley**_: dude wtf  
 _ **Kemp Hurley added Chris Plovert to the group  
Chris Plovert removed Derrick Harrington from the group  
Chris Plovert**_: he's so sensitive


	11. This Town

**a/n** : much longer than last time. Google Docs is calling it 53 pages without major edits. It's also the last of this format for now, which means the fun and games is over. we'll be getting back into the drama of it all.

just some things I want to clear up:

1\. to the anon who mentioned the timeline problems, thanks for pointing them out! i forget very easily and haven't actually mapped out the demise of their relationships, so i went back and made them very general (got rid of months). thanks again!

2\. i know a lot of you are upset with cassie, which is a-ok. i just want you to remember this is a rewrite of the original and cassie was in that, so it's here. it is also totally normal for a boy to act the way cam does with massie and then the way he does with everyone else. cam is basically a fuckboy, which is also okay. his character in the books bothered me a lot, so i'm just having fun with him.

3\. a lot of you are also concerned about derrick and cam's relationship with this whole cassie thing going on. i tried to incorporate that issue in this chapter, but also please remember that sometimes people suck, even your best, best friend. if they are your best, best friend, though, you can work it out. let massie and cam have their fun. derrick is currently in a relationship despite his obvious feelings, so he's just as problematic.

4\. please do not harass me to update. i work a full-time job and have hobbies and friends outside of this. i try to update as often as i can, but to give you chapters like these it takes time. sometimes ya girl just wants to lay down, too.

as always, thanks for sticking with me. i went on vacation to Seattle this past week and wrote from Tuesday to the diner scene on Friday all on my phone, so don't say i don't love yall!

all boys in this one. tryna give them all a little love, so i hope i did their personalities and povs justice. I'm normally only good at derrick.

happy holidays if you're celebrating now. happy belated hanukkah if you celebrated last week. see you in 2018.

* * *

 _Yesterday I thought I saw your shadow running 'round  
It's funny how things never change in this old town  
_\- "This Town," Niall Horan

* * *

 **SATURDAY**

* * *

 _ **Cam Fisher**_ to _**The Pretty Petty Committee**_ : so harris got me and my mom drunk off sangria  
 _ **Cam Fisher**_ : and now hes trying to find backstreet boys karaoke videos on youtbue  
 _ **Dylan Marvil**_ : ill be over in 10  
 _ **Cam Fisher**_ : k we need two more members anyway but im nick carter i call it  
 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : OUCK ME HP DTLSN  
 _ **Dylan Marvil**_ : que?  
 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : PICK  
 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : ME  
 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : UP  
 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : DYLAN  
 _ **Dylan Marvil**_ : lmao I know I'm already outside your house

.

 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : look how cute massie!  
 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : Attachment: 1 Video  
 _ **Massie Block**_ : omg  
 _ **Massie Block**_ : I FORGOT HE WAS IN A BAND ALICIA  
 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : lmao  
 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : does playing acoustic music with layne abeley classify as "being in a band" tho

.

 _ **dylmarvil**_ posted a new video  
 _hey how's your Saturday going #IWantItThatWay #AliciaWithThemHighNotes  
_ 900 views / view all 8 comments  
 **marvilryan** _MY BABIES  
_ **jmarvil** _**hfish**_ _still got it_  
 **hfish** _ **jmarvil**_ _;)  
_ **dylmarvil** _fuck elsewhere pls_ _ **hfish jmarvil**_

.

 _ **aleesharivera**_ (1 m)  
 _ME ENCANTA SANGRIA_

* * *

 **SUNDAY**

* * *

 _ **Josh Hotz**_ : HELLO IM OUTSIDE  
 _ **Josh Hotz**_ : AND I BROUGHT THE ENTIRE BOX SET OF DESPERATE HOUSEWIVES  
 _ **Massie Block**_ : FANTASTIC DAD HAS TEQUILA  
 _ **Josh Hotz**_ : DESPERATE TEQUILA

.

 _ **Derrick Harrington**_ : hey  
 _ **Derrick Harrington**_ : diner?  
 _ **Cam Fisher**_ : im dead af  
 _ **Derrick Harrington**_ : k and?  
 _ **Cam Fisher**_ : lemme put on pants

.

 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ posted in _**The Pretty Committee**_ : real quick Mass explain the plovert kiss one more time  
 _ **Massie Block**_ : o m g  
 _ **Claire Lyons**_ : lmao u like him or something  
 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : claire i will block u  
 _ **Massie Block**_ : he was being Nice, it meant nothing, leave me alone josh and i are BONDING  
 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : real quick how was it i bet it was nice  
 _ **Claire Lyons**_ : lmao u like him or something  
 _ **Alicia Rivera removed Claire Lyons from the group  
**_ _ **Dylan Marvil**_ : LOL  
 _ **Dylan Marvil**_ : but srsly I'd also like to know  
 _ **Kristen Gregory**_ : wait dyl why'd i think you and chris have kissed before  
 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : EXCUSE  
 _ **Dylan Marvil**_ : i have NOT  
 _ **Massie Block muted the group**_

.

 _ **Dylan Marvil**_ posted in _**The Pretty Committee**_ : did mass mute us  
 _ **Kristen Gregory**_ : def  
 _ **Kristen Gregory**_ : should we add Claire back  
 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : NO  
 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : she's rude  
 _ **Dylan Marvil**_ : is now a good time to talk about the overdramatic "down with massie" group we have bc you were stressed about her not at all important kiss with Plovert  
 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : also no  
 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : how do I delete a mssg  
 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : Kristen why did you LIKE it  
 _ **Massie Block**_ : lmao DOWN WITH MASSIE  
 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : of course u come back now  
 _ **Massie Block**_ : tell me more  
 _ **Massie Block added Claire Lyons to the group  
**_ _ **Claire Lyons**_ : sick invite  
 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : I s2g Claire

* * *

 **MONDAY**

* * *

 _I should have drove_ , Derrick thought, pulling his sleeves over his hands. It wasn't like it was too cold or anything - it was only the start of fall, after all - but the nippy air was definitely going to numb him the entire twenty minute walk home. Sadie lived so fucking far away.

And she was definitely mad at him again, and he wasn't going to get her flowers after she was, like, sort of ungrateful because he forgot her favorites and remembered Massie's. What was he to say after Alicia was a bitch and called him out on it at lunch? "Sorry Massie ingrained that in me" didn't seem like it would fly with anyone.

He rolled his eyes and turned left. He'd let her get over it and talk to him when she felt like it; he had no idea how to deal with angry Sadie. She was hardly ever mad about anything - she was like Dylan in the sense that she always just went with the flow. Derrick liked that about her.

His phone rang as he ducked underneath a low-hanging tree on the corner of Maple and Denison.

"Hey, Mom," he said. His voice sounded really loud in the quiet of the night. "I'm walking back now, I should be home by ten."

She asked him if he did his homework (he hadn't), wanted to know if he needed anything for lunch (no), and told him not wake her if she was asleep when she got back (she had an early shift at the hospital tomorrow). All of this could have been conveyed in a text, but whatever, he guessed.

It was another silent seven minutes, just him, his thoughts, and nature, and then he was attacked by a dog.

Not, like, _attacked_ -attacked, but rather… Bean had wound herself around him, licking at his shoes.

Derrick bent down to scratch behind her ears, fisting the leash that trailed behind her. Bean barked appreciatively at him, tail wagging a mile a minute.

"Ehmagod," Massie panted, skidding to a stop in her furry boots. "Thank god it's you."

Derrick blinked up at her. "Hey," he greeted, smirking, "did you lose something?"

"She was fine one second, sniffing some leaves, and then the next, she's literally _sprinting_ ," Massie explained, taking the leash from him. Their fingers brushed; Massie pulled hers away quickly. "What am I supposed to do with you?" she asked of her dog, whom of which merely looked at her, eyes big and manipulative. " _Bean_."

Bean butted her head against Derrick's calves, tongue running against his jeans. She barked again.

"Looks like she wants to hang out with you," Massie told him, looking tired and exasperated. When Derrick didn't answer, too busy staring at her, she mumbled, "Bean, he doesn't have time for that."

"Oh," he said stupidly, shaking his head. What was wrong with him? "I can… I'm not… don't listen to her. She doesn't know my life." He scooped up the pug, nestled her comfortably against his chest, and allowed her to lick his face. "We can hang out."

"Our walk was basically done anyway." Massie tucked her hands in her coat pockets. "We'll just walk with you until you have to go and turn - "

Derrick shook his head. "It's dark. You shouldn't be out here by yourself. I'll walk you home."

"You don't have to d-"

"Hey," he interrupted, catching her gaze. Even now, in the dark, her eyes were fiery. He swallowed. "That's what friends do, right?"

"Yeah," she agreed, forcing a smile. He could tell her real one from her fake one. "Friends do that, I guess."

They walked in an amiable yet uncomfortable silence, the only sounds their footsteps and Bean's labored breathing. Derrick thought she fell asleep.

He spared Massie a glance, admiring the shadows the moonlight cast on her face. His mouth felt dry; words caught in the confines of his throat. Why didn't he have anything to talk to her about? For two years he'd done nothing but text her, found things to say, wanted her opinion, wanted to hear her voice, and now… Now he had nothing, except, you know, he had something. Probably wasn't the best thing to bring up, but -

"Hey, I really appreciated that sticky note you left me, you didn't-"

"Do you have a thing for Plovert?" he accidentally spoke over her.

He cringed when her words registered. They were talking about two wildly different things. He heaved Bean up and buried his chin in her soft fur. Oddly enough, she smelled just like Massie, only in a dog way.

There was a beat of silence, and then - and then Massie was fucking _laughing_.

Okay, rude.

"If only," she said wistfully, combing her fingers through her hair. Derrick made a face into Bean's neck. "That'd be so easy, but nah. I don't."

"Then why'd you-"

"I didn't realize whatever he did would be such a big deal," Massie murmured. Her voice carried like the wind. "Alicia bombarded me, Dylan wanted to know, Kemp was, like, freaking out… but he was just being nice."

Derrick furrowed his brow. "Yeah, that's what he said, but, like…" He trailed off. _I don't get it_.

"Okay, so, here's the thing." Massie sighed, stretching her arms out. "I was upset, right? Like." She paused, probably trying to figure out how much she wanted to tell him, and then plowed on. "Skye Hamilton is sort of- she's…"

"Is she threatening you again?" he demanded, coming to screeching halt.

Massie hadn't realized he'd stopped walking, continuing down the street.

" _Block_ ," he snapped.

She turned. "Oh." She didn't come any closer, so he did - definitely a metaphor of their relationship or some shit. Him, always trying, trying, trying, and she, always stagnant, never budging, somewhere he couldn't reach. "No," she answered when he was close enough to count the individual flecks of green in her amber eyes. "Yes."

"Which one is it?"

"Both," said Massie. "I'm not worried though."

A lie, and he knew it. She knew he knew it, too.

"Then why'd Plovert need to kiss you to make it better?" Did he sound as bitter as he felt?

"He didn't… it was like…" Massie stomped her foot in frustration and just came out with it. It was easier for both of them that way; he hated playing these games with her. "I got upset because Skye, like, taunted me with her stupid bracelets and then I found out both Kemp and Cam slept with her" - Derrick winced - "and… and it bothered me, because Skye is gross, and, like, is she being safe, collecting all those bracelets like that? And I know it makes no sense, and we haven't talked in years, but you guys are _mine_ , and can't she stay away from what isn't hers?"

If anyone asked if Massie calling him - sorry, calling _them_ \- hers made him feel any sort of way, he'd definitely lie. But because he was in his head and both his mother and his sister told him he needed to acknowledge his feelings more, he would admit that it warmed him.

You know, in a nice platonic way.

Because he had a girlfriend. And Massie… Massie was not interested.

Not that he was thinking about that. Because he had a girlfriend. Who he liked a significant amount.

"I would never," he blurted. She looked up at him, blinking in confusion. "Sleep with her, I mean. I would not sleep with Skye."

"Oh." Massie nodded, the gold of her eyes brightening ever so slightly. He chewed on his lip, fighting off a grin at her reaction. "That's… that's good to know. I'll keep that in mind."

"Yep. You do that."

Massie smiled at him and it was fucking earth-shattering how pretty she looked, all bundled up and pink-cheeked, lit only by the stars and the yellow of the streetlights. He could not recall the last time she smiled at him like that. Maybe last year, by accident or something. Maybe longer than that, when they were still dating and they both hadn't so royally fucked things up. She had congratulated him for winning the championship soccer game, though, but she looked like she wanted to die when she did it…

"So," she started, livelier, voice hitching. She was nervous. "Tell me about these tattoos you have. Why do you have them? How did you get them? Don't you need to be eighteen?"

The crown nestled beneath his inner elbow seemed to itch.

"Um, one of Patrick's frat brothers wants to be a tattoo artist?" he answered. "Every time I visit, I let him try it out. He's, like, really good."

"Can I see them?"

"Um." Derrick coughed, avoiding the urge to scratch at his skin. "It's dark out here and I'm holding your dog?"

Massie giggled. "We're almost at my house," she told him, nodding towards the large estate on the corner. "Do you… do you want to come in? You must be cold in just that sweatshirt. You were coming from Sadie's, right?"

"I don't… yeah, I was, but it's fine, I don't want to impose."

"It's, like, nine-fifteen," Massie rebutted, checking her golden watch. "No trouble at all, probably. We can have hot chocolate and I can see if Isaac or my dad can drop you home."

Derrick shot her a look. "You really want to look at these tattoos, don't you?"

She giggled again, shrugging. "Yeah."

"Fine," he relented, as if he was actually going to say no to her in the first place. "Hot chocolate it is."

She air-clapped and led the way. He watched her hair bounce as he followed her up the winding path to her side door and gently placed Bean on the ground. The pup yipped, racing through the house, and Massie informed him that she would be curling up and asleep in her bed in less than ten minutes.

 _The dream_ , he'd said. Massie laughed.

The last time he'd been in this house, he'd been sort of sad and really drunk. He didn't quite remember what they'd talked about after the fifth vodka shot, but the way Massie was acting told him it must've been something good or else she wouldn't have invited him over. He just hoped he didn't make a fool out of himself; he had a habit of doing that.

"Okay, so, fun fact about me," Massie announced once they were in her kitchen, "I don't actually know how to make hot chocolate."

"Oh my god," Derrick said.

"But," she continued on, as if he didn't say anything. "I have all the ingredients and I guess I can just Google how to do it? It can't be that hard, right? Like. Milk. And cocoa powder. And probably something else."

Derrick snorted, hip-checking her out of the way. "Let me do it, idiot."

"I am _nawt_."

"You don't know how to make _hot chocolate_ ," he shot back. "Massie, the recipe is literally on the _back_ of the cocoa powder."

"Oh. I'll do it then."

"Nope. Lost the privilege." Derrick held the cannister over his head. Being taller than her had its perks - she couldn't reach past his shoulder, even on her tiptoes - but when she jumped, she accidentally whacked him in the face. "You are a midget, it's not going to work."

She pinched him. He rolled his eyes. Like that even hurt.

"Take your sweatshirt off," she ordered, hopping onto one of the bar stools by the island in the middle of the kitchen.

"W _ooooooooo_ w." Derrick whistled, looking for one of her saucepans. "You really get straight to the point these days, don't you?"

"Oh my _god_." Massie tried to kick at him, but he was too far away. "You and Kemp are so annoying. Not everything is a sexual thing."

"It's not?" he questioned, easily making their drink, y'know, without having to look at the recipe. "Do you like cinnamon in your hot chocolate?"

"Sure," Massie replied. "Sweatshirt off, please."

"Oh my god, hold on."

"You say oh my god a lot."

"So do you," he shot back. "Oh my god, ehmagawd, ehmagod, oh my gaaaaawd, ohmigod!"

" _Derrick_!"

"Yes, Massie?"

"I don't like you."

"Do you want hot chocolate or not?"

"I do."

"Then be nice to me."

She sighed like it was the hardest thing she'd ever have to do. "F _iii_ ne."

Derrick rolled up his sleeve once they were nestled in the little alcove in her living room. It was silent in her house, they had a perfect view of her backyard from the window, and it felt like they were in a cushy library in some sort of fairytale castle. (But he never thought that, do not tell anyone.)

He gripped his mug tightly as Massie's fingers ghosted over the nonsensical collection of tattoos he'd accumulated over the past year and a half. A lot of people thought he was a moron, "ruining" his arm like this, but each one of these had a meaning, was important to him. There was the Roman numeral date of the first time he'd met Cam, who had a matching one on his shoulder blade, and a boxing glove for Kemp, the cartoonish milkshake he'd gotten because he and Dylan spent most of their free time drinking them at the diner across town, ballet shoes, which he always said was for his sister, but was really for Alicia.

He was a sentimental asshole, that's what he was, and now Massie was touching the crown, the first one he'd ever gotten, the one he'd specifically asked for. The one he may or may not have cried over when he was four beers past blackout at a frat party when he was fifteen.

Goosebumps raised on his arms.

"Are you..." asked Massie.

"Cold," he answered.

He could feel her gaze on him, steady and kind of heady, and he tried to ignore it best he could. He failed drastically, lifting his eyes from her fingers to her face. She stared at him with this fucking inexplicable expression; he devoured it, committing it to memory - her eyebrows, and her nose, and her cheekbones, and her mouth.

She knew.

Derrick had shown Patrick's friend a picture of the crown charm that currently hung off the bracelet on her left wrist and she knew.

She pressed her fingers down on it, imprinting herself into it, breathing _life_ into it. He could feel his heartbeat pound beneath her hand.

"You should probably go," she murmured.

He ran his thumb along her jawline, forcing her to look at him again, to look at him straight on. She couldn't do it, he couldn't do it - it _hurt_ looking at her, knowing there was nothing there. Nothing he could do.

Her eyes fluttered shut, lashes long and dark against her skin, and he whispered, "I know."

And he left.

* * *

 **TUESDAY**

* * *

"Why do I have eleven missed calls from you?"

"Why did you just pick up _now_?"

Josh swatted the wet towel Kemp had thrown at him, letting it fall to the ground in a damp heap. "I just finished up soccer practice."

"Just now? It's like eight."

"Uh." He checked his watch. "It's six-thirty, but close."

Next to him, Plovert slammed his locker shut, dropping to the bench and texting on his phone. Derrick hadn't even bothered showering, already slipping his boots back on, fully dressed. Cam laid, shirtless, on the floor, which was pretty gross, considering.

Massie sighed on the other line. "Are you busy?"

"I'm basically finished up here, but then I need to do my-" He paused, listening to her breathing as it hitched, subtle enough that someone who didn't know her wouldn't notice. But _he_ knew her, and he _did_ notice. "Why? Do you need me?"

"Um…" Massie drew out, sniffing. _Was she crying? What the fuck?_ "Not need, but, like, I want you here?"

Derrick was called to the coach's office; he frowned, kicked at Cam's knee, and disappeared.

"Give me twenty," Josh estimated.

"'Kay," mumbled Massie, and then she hung up.

Josh aggressively dried his hair with his towel, shoved all of his shit in his locker, and heaved his backpack- full of homework assignments he'd neglected and an essay he was halfway finished with that was due in three weeks- over one shoulder. He twisted on his heels, looking for Kemp.

He found him outside. "Hey," he greeted.

"Hey," Kemp returned, shoving his phone in his pocket. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah, but do you think you can drop me off at Massie's?"

Kemp raised an eyebrow, curious, and shrugged. "Sure."

"Thanks, I just-"

"I don't need an explanation," Kemp cut him off. "Massie yelled at me the last time I tried to get involved in her life, so I'm, like, trying to… not."

"I don't think slamming Landon into a wall was your best idea," agreed Josh.

Kemp led the way to his car. "Crane's a fucking loser," he muttered. "He deserved it."

"Nah," said Josh. "She was going to break up with him."

"They weren't even dating," stressed Kemp, "and tell me how kissing someone is breaking up with them."

Josh scratched his nose, unable to come up with an appropriate response. "I don't know why girls do the things they do, man. You just gotta trust 'em."

"I guess," said Kemp.

Josh coughed, covering up his snicker- Kemp was so dramatic and whiny- and hopped into the passenger seat. He immediately began fiddling with the buttons and knobs on the radio, trying to find a good station before he settled for plugging his phone in.

Kemp reached out and grabbed his wrist, stopping him. "I swear to god, if you even think about putting your sad boy music on, I will lose my _shit_."

"Niall Horan's new album is not _sad boy music_ ," Josh retorted. "It is _good_ music."

The other shot him a look, squeezing him in warning. He dropped Josh's arm, put the car in reverse, and started exiting the parking lot.

He knew Kemp would hate it, but he put Niall on anyway. It was the principle of the thing.

When he was dropped off in front of Massie's, Kemp told him he'd never drive him anywhere again. Josh rolled his eyes, not bothering to thank him, and ambled up the walkway, scratching absentmindedly at the place where Kemp's fingers had been; it felt hot and itchy. Maybe he'd fractured his wrist when he landed on it wrong during practice.

"Took you long enough." Massie threw the door open as soon as he stepped on her front porch, still looking as immaculate as ever despite the obvious signs of discontentment (at him) and anxiety (at the world, probably).

"Aw," said Josh, breezing past her, "were you waiting for me?"

"Of course," she replied, "what else would I do?"

"True," he agreed with a nod. "Now, first things first: I brought you this. Please dispose of Plovert's immediately." He shoved his old Briarwood sweatshirt at her, grinning at the annoyed look on her face.

"You're such a baby," she told him.

"But you're gonna do what I said, right?"

"I mean." Massie shoved her arms in the article of clothing, pulling it over her head, burrowing herself in its warmth. "I'm going to keep this _and_ Chris's until he asks for it back."

"Massie," Josh said.

"Josh, there are more pressing matters at hand than sweatshirts!"

"Like _what_?"

"Like my feelings!"

"Oh, we're having a feelings talk?"

Massie made a face, disgruntled. "Unfortunately. I'm having so many."

"Oh, come here." Josh held his arms open and Massie shuffled into them, digging her fingers into the worn material of his loose long sleeve shirt.

He couldn't tell if she had been crying or not- her face was one of utter perfection- but the way she held onto him spoke volumes. So he squeezed her back, resting his cheek on the top of her head, her jasmine-scented shampoo invading his nostrils and making him whoozy.

"What's up?" he asked softly.

"I'm… it's… I don't _know_ ," she settled for, voice muffled.

Josh allowed this insecurity and confusion, walking them further into her house and out of the brisk October chill. He kicked blindly at the door, hooking his foot around it and closing it behind them. Massie kept her face buried in his chest, sighing and sniffling, and Josh didn't know what to do.

He used to, but now…

Now it was a little different.

"I can't help if you don't tell me what's bothering you," he murmured supportively. "You know that you can-"

"Did you know about it?" She demanded, voice soft.

"Did I know about what?"

"Derrick's tattoo."

"He's got a ton, Mass, you gotta be more specif-"

"The one that's for me, Josh. The one that's." She broke off, quieter now. "The one that's for me."

"There's a…"

He stopped.

He thought.

There _was_.

Josh hadn't realized it, hadn't thought about it in any context other than _Derrick's got a pretentious tattoo_ , but thinking about it now it was bright as day.

Derrick's crown tattoo was for _Massie_.

"He showed them to me last night, his tattoos, and I...he didn't have to tell me. I just...it's for me. I know it is. The way he was looking at me, the way I-" she faltered, looking ashamed, looking sheepish. "Josh, why didn't anyone tell me, why didn't- does he- he can't possibly…"

She stopped there, looking like she wanted to say more but couldn't, and she threaded her fingers through his and tugged him up her stairs. Josh followed soundlessly, trying to be as supportive as possible, but his mind was going a mile a minute.

He'd spent months- _years-_ thinking every one of Derrick's reactions to Massie had been borne out of hatred, out of a knee-jerk reaction to being hurt by her decisions to put popularity before him. Before _them_. Had he been wrong? This entire time had Derrick…

"I really can't handle it if he… this can't be happening to me," babbled Massie, bursting into her bedroom and throwing herself on her bed. It was a mess, a sign that she was distressed; she would never let her room get this way if she weren't.

Josh dropped on the edge, eyeing her curiously. He had so many questions but no time to ask them. Not when Massie was curled up like this, not when she was just confused as he was.

"I saw it again today," she said more coherently. "He wore this, like, shirt with short sleeves and it was _right there_ , like he wanted me to notice it, like he wanted me to _remember_ , which I don't… which I _can't_ , and it doesn't help that Madame Lacroix partnered us up in French because he and Sadie were making too much of a _scene_ together…"

Josh wondered if Massie knew how bitter she sounded.

"I just can't," she said again. "I can't stand him. I can't even be near him, you know?" Josh didn't. "He makes it so easy for me to just...to just remember what it was like. Like I could…" She shook her head. "It's crazy, right? That he can make me feel so… so discombobulated like this?"

"No," said Josh, even though that wasn't what she wanted to hear. "Whatever you and Derrick were, I don't think you'll ever fully get over him. And him over you. It was a lot, Mass. The two of you were… fire. Ice. When you were together you were great. When you were apart you were disastrous. Something like that doesn't go away. Not when you were so entwined the way you were. The way you are."

Massie was silent for a moment. For longer than a moment, actually, staring up at her ceiling, chest rising and falling as if she'd run a marathon. She reached a hand out, made a grabbing gesture at Josh, and he crawled over to her, allowing her to snuggle into his side, hiding her face from view.

He brushed his fingers through her hair, shifted so he was more comfortable, and hummed under his breath. Massie traced circles into the skin by his hip where his shirt had ridden up. He wondered if she was okay. Wondered if they'd all be okay.

Their new friendships seemed to bring up a lot of old memories. Ones that they all wanted to avoid.

Josh remembered the look on Alicia's face when he purposely ignored her at functions. Remembered how obvious and desperate she'd been in her crush on him. How little he cared about having the "hottest girl in school" interested in him. He remembered going behind Cam's back and making out with Claire. He remembered what it felt like to get punched in the jaw by one of his closest friends. He remembered the look on Massie's face every time Derrick did something stupid. Every time Derrick embarrassed her, mocked her, made her feel like being herself was not an option.

But he remembered the good things, too, and so he understood how Massie was feeling. It was hard to sort through it all.

"That's terrible," she said finally, "I can't be that way with him. I want to be _no_ way with him. Friends, sure, but, like, from a distance." She sighed, pressing her nose into his side. "It's not fair to me, or him, or Sadie. It's not… it's… it can't happen, Josh. I'm hooking up with Cam."

A beat.

Josh's hand stopped petting Massie's hair.

Then: "You're WHAT?"

"Yeah," said Massie. "He's- he's, like, really good with his mouth? And, like, his hands are-"

"Stop, stop, _stop_ ," Josh snapped, confused and kind of angry. "You're hooking up with Cam? Cam _Fisher_?"

"Do you know another one?"

Silence again, and then: " _Why_?"

"Do I need a reason?"

"No, but, like…" Josh wrinkled his nose. "You _just_ ended things with Landon. Weren't you, like, not interested in him? Was it because of Cam? Not that it could be because we all just became friends again… unless you were interested in him before we became friends again. Were you? Tell me you weren't."

Massie scoffed. "Number one: Why does it matter? Number two: Ending things with Landon had nothing to do with Cam or our new friendships or anything." She paused and it seemed like she was thinking about something else entirely. "Number three: Do I need a reason to hook up with Cam?"

"I mean, no, but you just don't seem like the type."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean, you just spent ten minutes whining about Derrick."

" _And_?"

"And you're hooking up with his best friend." Josh brushed the hair out of Massie's eyes, which were avoiding his, like she knew he was right about this. "Massie, Cam is Derrick's _best_ friend."

"So?"

"I don't think this is-"

"I can do what I want," she interrupted, "but this is one of the feelings I'm having."

"About Derrick and Cam?"

She nodded. "It's just… I think I'm getting in over my head, maybe."

"I'd recommend stopping then."

"But he's so good with his mouth." Massie sighed. "Like, he can do this thing, and-"

"Nope!" Josh exclaimed. "No, thank you!"

"Josh, I just don't know-"

"But you do."

She shifted, her shoulder hitting his. "You're right. I do."

"Why am I here then?" he asked, and then quieter: "Did you talk to Kemp and Plovert about this already?"

Massie rolled over, her body on top of his, and looked at him, her chin against her hands which were linked on his chest. "I miss you, that's why you're here, and no, I did not. You're the first to know. Besides Alicia."

"Aw." Josh lifted his head to press his mouth to her face. Massie smiled at him, putting her fingers to the dip in his dimple. "You do care."

"Of course I do, loser," she retorted, pinching his cheek. "Just because I'm confused and probably make bad decisions doesn't mean you're not my number one."

Josh stuck his tongue out at her, accidentally locking her cheek. "As if you haven't been breeding Chris for my role."

"No one can replace you!" she insisted. "And anyway he's different. He's like my fake boyfriend."

"And I'm _not_?" Josh squawked indignantly. "Honestly, Massie, why do you hate me?"

"I don't!" She snuggled closer into him. "I can have multiple fake boyfriends, can't I? If it helps Chris is definitely my side chick."

Josh groaned loudly, annoyed. "I should be enough!"

"You are! I need no one but you!"

"Liar."

"How about this," she suggested, "for Ripple's birthday party-"

"-the one you're throwing for no reason-"

"-the one I'm throwing because I am true to my word-"

"-sure, whatever-"

"-how about we go together? You know, how about we match?"

"Done," Josh said immediately.

"We're gonna look so good, we'll-"

"-we're not wearing purple-"

"Joshua, I have Chris on speed dial, I am not opposed to calling him right now, he _will_ wear purple with me-"

"Do it, Massie," Josh threatened. "Do. It."

She faltered, unsure if he was serious, and Josh grinned at her. "I don't wanna wear purple, Mass. I wanna be fancy. I wanna wear, like, gold."

Massie eyed him for a moment, suspicious, and then she deflated. "I do look good in gold," she agreed.

"Yep, you do," said Josh. "I wouldn't suggest a color you didn't look good in."

"So considerate."

"That's me." He looked at her and she looked at him, slightly uncomfortable, slightly not, and he closed his eyes, finding the strength to ask, "Do you want to talk about Cam's mouth?"

"N- yeah," she answered. "Yeah, I do."

She spent the next twenty minutes talking about this thing Cam did with his tongue, but halfway through she stopped, wanting to know more about Derrick's tattoo, and if that didn't describe who Massie was as a person Josh didn't know what did.

* * *

 **WEDNESDAY**

* * *

Harris picked up on the third ring. "Dude, we _just_ saw each other."

Cam rolled his eyes, falling back onto the leather couch in their home, head pressed against a navy throw pillow. "Yeah, and I didn't get a chance to talk to you. You wanted to sing Backstreet Boys karaoke."

"Rivera is looking mighty fine these days." Harris whistled in response. In the background, a Drake song played.

"Don't even think about it," Cam snapped. "She deserves better than you."

Harris snorted. "Thanks, bro," he returned sarcastically. "She's so far up Hurley's ass anyway there's no point."

"I wouldn't say-"

"She FaceTimed him literally the whole time," Harris cut in, sounding amused. "If that's not the sign of a crush then I don't know what is. Anyway," he added, changing the subject (probably because of Alicia, if Cam really thought about it; Harris had this weird thing with her), "what do you want to talk about? I have an Anatomy test tomorrow I should really be-"

"Have you ever done something to Patrick that you know would piss him off? Like...kind of on purpose but kind of not really because he's never been explicit with it? Or honest with you? Or himself? But he, like, acts a certain way about it?"

There was a brief moment of silence and Cam watched the raindrops race down the window.

"What are you doing to Derrick?"

"Nothing to _him_ , but…"

"Cam."

"You've never hooked up with one of Patrick's ex-girlfriends?"

"I _dated_ one of- wait, you're getting with Massie Block?"

Cam exhaled sharply. "I always forget Patrick and Jamie were a thing."

"Oh, yeah," said Harris. "They were legit. Like, Homecoming King and Queen. You know, before our grade got Homecoming canceled for the rest of forever."

"Thank god, to be honest."

"Yeah, but back to more important things. _Massie_?" Harris sounded incredulous. "I thought she was a major prude."

"Don't be rude," Cam chided. "We got to second base in the back of my car. And she's also a very nice girl."

Harris choked. "D _uuuuuu_ de. No, she's not. Wanna know who's cool? Dylan."

"If you and Dylan's sisters just stopped trying to get us together I would really appreciate it," Cam returned, miffed. "I need serious advice, man."

"And my advice is to date a Marvil. They rock."

"You stole her from your best friend."

"Isn't that what you're doing with Massie?"

"Not even a little bit. You literally made out with Jamie while Patrick was still dating her. I can't believe he's still friends with you."

"None of it makes any sense," Harris offered. "Pat's with Ryan now. Our whole group is super incestuous, really."

"He's still with Ry? They don't even go to the same school."

Harris scoffed and Cam knew he was rolling his eyes. "They're 'in love' or some gross shit like that. Pat hasn't looked at another girl since freshman year rush week." He sighed as if this bothered him. It didn't. Ryan Marvil was Harris's best friend. He loved that girl. "But what is it you want advice on?"

"I wanted to know your input on this situation I'm in but I think I got it already."

"Look," Harris started, "D's dating someone else, right? I don't care what his feelings are about Massie. If he's going to date and not do anything about them, that's it. No reason to stop yourself from doing what you want. D is… he's just like Pat in the way he think he's entitled to something even though he's never told anyone. And Massie is not something he can just claim. She's a girl. She's a person."

Cam chewed on the inside of his cheek, listening.

"He can't expect you to know how he feels without you telling him," continued Harris. "He has to make moves. Harringtons never make moves."

"Well, he _acts_ like-"

"Acting and saying are two different things." The music on Harris's end changed to Childish Gambino. "Here's the main thing: You can do what you want and Massie can do what she wants. Even if Derrick decides to tell everyone tomorrow he likes her she still makes her own decisions. She can say no. Do you like her?"

"Eh," answered Cam. "Haven't thought about it. I like kissing her though."

"Nothing wrong with that." Harris clicked his tongue. "If you want to keep doing it, keep doing it. Derrick has to respect these decisions. He can't be mad at you because he's a pussy."

"He's not-"

"Bro, the way you're saying it, he's in denial. That's no place to be. And if you're worried he's going to mad at you for this… sorry, but if I remember Massie the way I do, he should be the one that's afraid. That girl's gonna chew him up and spit him out for thinking she's his. She can do what she wants, even if it's you. _Especially_ if it's you."

"Dude, we're not…"

"Hey, if Derrick is fucking someone else, you can fuck Massie. Free country and all that jazz. Get your dick wet, man, you deserve it."

Cam blinked, not sure how to respond.

"Love you, man, and I care about your problems, but if I fail Anatomy one more time Mom's gonna cut my balls off. I gotta go."

Harris hung up, Cam rolled his eyes, and sent two texts in quick succession. One to Kristen ( _hows my boy Beckham_ ) and another Layne Abeley, who he was in a band with ( _do u have time for me today_ ).

Kristen answered immediately, sending a video of herself asking Beckham if he liked Cam, who only responded with what seemed to be an angry flick of the tail. He sent her back a series of angry cat emojis, blaming her for telling Beckham mean stories about him, and he vaguely registered how cute her voice sounded. So he told her.

 _I just woke up I sound like a MAN_ , she said.

 _Why are you always napping?_

 _I'm TIRED  
_ _I'm in like 7 AP classes and soccer is getting really brutal and like Chris makes me do half of his job for student council I can't stand him_

 _Isn't being VP essentially doing things the president doesn't want to_

 _GoodBYE_

 _No wait_

 _Yes?_ Kristen responded, because she wasn't actually going anywhere.

He debated asking her for advice about the Massie thing- Harris had a valid point but, like, Harris was a major dick and probably the reason Cam acted the way he did- but thought better of it. He'd decided he wouldn't tell anyone about what he and Massie were doing; it would complicate things.

Not like they weren't already complicated enough. Maybe he should just talk to Derrick about it. He'd understand, right? He was just being an asshole. Because. Because he was one. He'd never talked to Cam about Massie and they were best friends. _Brothers._ That had to mean something. He'd hated her for practically two years, spent the majority of freshman year trying to ignore her, forced Josh to pick sides.

They were so close they could get past this if it ended up being an issue. Cam was sure of it.

Besides, Derrick was getting laid on the regular with Sadie, and he definitely wasn't thinking about Massie while _that_ happened.

If he was thinking about her at all. Cam could easily be overreacting.

 _Me and Layne have a gig in a week wanna come?_

That wasn't what he wanted to say, but.

 _As long as you don't play any of the songs you wrote about claire no offense they were terrible_

He snorted. _I'll only play songs about ur cat_

 _Count me in._

Forty minutes later Layne answered him: _garage in an hour, I'm onto something._

Cam responded favorably, significantly relieved. He could talk to her about his concerns. Layne cared very little about the drama of BOCD. She was only interested in weird foods, the underground music and protest scene, her Drawing and Painting class, and Claire. Which should have been weird but wasn't- Claire wasn't actually talking to Layne that much these days.

It was sad but people drifted, he supposed.

He really hoped that didn't happen to him and Derrick.

* * *

 **THURSDAY**

* * *

"Turn. This. _Off_."

"Hurley, calm down, the song is over in, like-"

"If there is one thing Ali taught me it's that we hate Zayn Malik, I refuse to listen to-"

"Shut the fuck up about Alicia, Jesus Christ," snapped Cam, squinting at the closed door of Derrick's basement. "Fuck her already, okay, I'm sure she'd be down for it."

Chris tried to keep his body relaxed but he was sure everyone saw him wince. He bit into one of the pot brownies Harris had left for them and chewed, hoping they'd either A) drop the subject or B) think he was as cool as a cucumber.

"I don't want to fu- I am not doing that," Kemp stuttered, something he never did. Weird. "It's… it's _Alicia_. She's like my sister."

Derrick snorted unkindly. "You wanna tell her that or should I?"

Chris shoved the entire brownie in his mouth, stared directly at Sadie- she seemed like she was uncomfortable but also in her element- and whipped his phone out.

 _Hello_ , he typed, willing his high to work faster and overcome him. _Do you have a moment to talk about our lord and savior, me?_

He hid his screen from Josh, who tried to read over his shoulder, nestling himself into a ball by the arm of the couch.

Sadie threw her legs on Derrick's lap; he squeezed her knee, and sent her this look, wrinkling his nose at her. She stuck her tongue out, holding her hand out. He tossed her his controller, letting her take over for him as Superman.

 _Of course_ , Massie answered back. _Text or call?_

 _Text for now. I sort of ate one and half brownies so idk what's gonna happen_

 _What  
_ _Oh  
_ _I just realized what kind of brownies_

Chris felt this, like, warmth fill his entire body as he texted back and forth with Massie. He took the time to consider how fucking _weird_ that was, to be happy to be talking to Massie effing Block, who he'd used to think was the Devil's daughter, a demon, darkness reborn. He never understood why Josh had been her best friend. Why Derrick had been willing to bend over backwards for her.

But he got it.

Now, at least.

She was more relaxed now. Funnier. Not as mean. If he didn't have such a big crush on Alicia, he'd probably ask her out. He wondered if she'd say yes...so he asked.

 _So like barring everything  
_ _Like all things  
_ _If I asked u out on a date  
_ _What would you say_

Chance the Rapper blared out of his phone and he fumbled to answer Massie's call. He'd specifically said he wanted to text, but-

" _Barring everything_?" she demanded. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Like," he started, licking his lips. "Remember what I told you? When we drank gross rum drinks? Also, why are you yelling?"

"I'm not yelling," Massie told him, and she wasn't. He lowered his volume. "And no. Not really. Those drinks had too much rum in them."

"Oh."

Massie hesitated, he could feel it. "Why? Does this have something to do with you asking me out on a not-date?"

"I mean." Chris wasn't sure how to continue. "I just thought you were really good at keeping secrets."

"I am! So good I forget them!" Massie insisted, voice sort of pitched like she was trying to appeal to him. "Can you tell me what it was or are you not in the right company?"

Chris cast his gaze around the room once more. Cam was huddled with Kemp on the floor, having abandoned the game, allowing Derrick and Sadie to fight each other in _Injustice._ He had no idea what they were doing. Josh was watching a video on his phone, ripping apart Twizzlers.

"Give me a second, Mass, I'm gonna go upstairs." He climbed over the back of the couch, noticed the way both Cam and Derrick went rigid, and patted Josh on the head when he frowned. "It's weird," Chris told her as he climbed the steps. "Cam seems interested in our conversation. Why is that?"

"Um" was all Massie said.

Chris stopped at the door, closed it behind him, and exclaimed, "Massie, _no_."

"Hey!" she insisted. "I can do what I want. Besides I thought you were high."

"I'm better at thinking when I'm high. Very astute. How long?"

"Barring _what_?" she demanded, trying to change the subject. "What did you tell me?"

"How long?"

"Barring what!"

"How lo-"

"Like a month," she relented, sounding annoyed.

"My crush on Alicia," he replied, mouth dry.

A beat, and then: "Right."

"Right?"

"I remember," Massie said. "She-"

"Does she?" he interrupted, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Kemp?"

Massie was silent. He took that as a bad sign.

"I think," she murmured, "but Kemp doesn't-"

"He said he doesn't, but I can't tell if it's because of me or not," Chris admitted, sliding down the wall. The floor was cold under his butt. "I don't want him to think he has to not be interested because I am. Because I've been for four fucking years."

"If it helps I think she has an elaborate plot to kill me for kissing you."

"It doesn't." Chris swallowed. Suddenly talking to Massie seemed like a bad idea. His head was swimming and he sort of wanted to cry. "It'd be much easier if I could just date you."

Massie laughed sympathetically. "I think I'm more trouble than it's worth, Chris."

"Nah," he murmured. "I love you."

"And I love you," she returned. "Look at how far we've come from you not liking me in middle school!"

"I don't understand why I like you know, but…"

"Just don't question it," Massie told him. "It's easier that way."

"How does your dad feel about weekday sleepovers?" Chris mumbled, tucking his chin into his chest, burying himself in his sweatshirt. Getting high never made him _sad_ before, what the fuck. "I wanna cuddle."

Massie's breathing on the other end was calming. "He used to let Josh do it all the time. Hold on, lemme ask."

"Tell him I'll buy him coffee in the morning."

She must've left the phone in her room while she went to find her dad. He heard voices- was that the television, were people there, had Alicia been in the room the whole time? His heart started beating faster and faster and faster until he realized it was just Claire. Her laugh was very distinct.

He calmed down considerably.

"He said it's fine," Massie alerted him after a few minutes. "But you need to sleep in the guest room apparently. We can wait until he's asleep and share a bed, though."

Chris chewed on his lip, nodding, before he realized she couldn't see him. Will liked him. He'd understand his plight if he explained.

"I'll probably leave Derrick's soon then," he told her. "I'm bored here."

The knob to the basement door twisted and Chris spoke over Massie: "Someone is coming. I'll text when I'm on my way."

"Okay," she started to say, but he'd already hung up.

The door opened. It was Sadie.

He didn't actually need to hang up then. In the nicest way possible, he didn't care what Sadie knew about him.

His phone went off in his lap. He looked down.

 _ **Massie Block**_ : id say yes

If only it were that easy.

But then he thought about Cam, and he thought about Derrick, and he thought about Alicia, and he thought about Kemp, and he realized it definitely would never be.

"Hey, Sadie," he said, sending Massie the heart eyes emoji in return. "What's up?"

"I was wondering that myself," she said, not meanly, but not nicely either. It made him uncomfortable- a weird sort of feeling considering Massie and Alicia were snarky more often than not and he hung around them all the damn time. "Why are you up here on the floor by yourself?"

Chris frowned at her, pressing the home button on his cell over and over. "Did Derrick put you up to this?"

"No." She rolled her glitter-lined eyes. "Am I not allowed to be concerned?"

"I mean, you are. You just never have been before."

Sadie wiped her hands on her jeans before offering him one. Chris stared at it, not sure if he wanted to get up. She pulled it away, shoving it in her pocket.

"You look like someone killed your dog," she told him. "Is it because they mentioned Alicia Rivera liking Kemp?"

It was the way she said Alicia's name that gave him pause, like she didn't like her. Like Alicia was the worst thing in the world. Chris blinked, gritted his teeth, tried to move past the haze that was overcoming him. She might not like him the way he liked her but he was not going to let Sadie Meltzer talk about her like that.

"I'm fine," he replied curtly, pressing his palms to the ground and heaving himself up. "I'm gonna go back downstairs and say bye."

"Bye?"

"Yeah. I'm going to Massie's."

Sadie sighed. "Why is everyone so fucking obsessed with her?"

Chris froze, door halfway open. "Excuse me?"

"Massie Block," Sadie elaborated as if he were confused, "why is everyone in this house, like, constantly kissing her feet? What's so special about her? She's been a bitch the entire time I've known her."

"Well, you clearly don't _actually_ know her," Chris spoke, refraining from snapping. It was odd how his mood could change so quickly. How strong were these brownies? "She's really cool."

"Yeah, and I'm the Queen," Sadie retorted. "Someone who constantly puts other people down is not cool in my book."

Chris started down the stairs. "I don't recall asking what you thought, but thanks."

Kemp caught his eye as he stumbled back into the basement. "What happened to you?"

"I'm going to Massie's," Chris announced, grabbing his jacket. "I'll see you guys tomorrow."

"Massie's?" Josh asked at the same time Derrick inquired, "You're going to Block's?"

"That's what I said." Chris looked at Derrick. "I think your girlfriend is leaving. I don't remember what I said to her but I know I'm not sorry."

Derrick groaned. "Dude, we're already in a bad place as it is, why'd you-"

"Don't blame me for what you've been doing," Chris interrupted. "Maybe if you pulled your head out of your ass and acted like her boyfriend instead of constantly panting after Massie you wouldn't be in this position. But, like, what do I know?"

The goalie blinked. "What the fuck, man. What's gotten into you?"

"Dunno," Chris answered honestly. "If Harris ever brings weed back again I don't want it. I feel like I'm on an emotional rollercoaster."

He shoved his arms in his North Face, pulled his charger out of the outlet, and climbed the steps again, two at a time. He was outside, unraveling his headphones, when Kemp caught up with him, still in his socks.

"Is it because of what they said about Alicia?"

"No." Chris felt his stomach churn. "I just want to go."

Kemp frowned. "Dude, they were just messing around. You know how they get about Ali. It's not like that at all."

"If you want to get with her you should do it," Chris told him, ignoring all of that. "Like. Don't not do it on my account. I don't like her like that anymore."

It was such a lie Chris wondered if Kemp could tell. Wondered how obvious it sounded. Wondered if it went right over Kemp's head because he was just as high (if not more) as Chris was.

Kemp ran a hand through his hair, features pinched. "She doesn't want to. Believe me, I would know."

" _Dude_."

"What?"

There was so much Chris could say- so much he _wanted_ to say- but he chose not to, shaking his head and wondering where it had all gone wrong that day. It was supposed to be fun, all five of them together, but then Sadie had shown up with Derrick, and Cam had seemed a little bit _weird_ , twitchy, really, and...and the brownies were definitely a bad idea.

He lifted a hand instead, waving stupidly, and turned on his heel, leaving his best friends to go to Massie's. He ignored Kemp calling after him.

* * *

 **FRIDAY**

* * *

 _ **Chris Plovert**_ posted in _**boyzzz**_ : dudes  
 _ **Chris Plovert**_ : u gotta see these uniforms the cheerleaders wear holy shit  
 _ **Chris Plovert**_ : wow  
 _ **Kemp Hurley**_ : I already told riv we'd support them at their game I can't stand this  
 _ **Josh Hotz**_ : we're gonna get PUNCHED in the face  
 _ **Derrick Harrington**_ : I'd rather die than go to a football game  
 _ **Cam Fisher**_ : what if I bring whiskey  
 _ **Derrick Harrington**_ : I've suddenly changed my mind  
 _ **Kemp Hurley**_ : hey it's like 7am why do u know what mass is wearing  
 _ **Kemp Hurley**_ : did u stay the night  
 _ **Chris Plovert**_ : ya bean loves me more than u now I think  
 _ **Kemp Hurley**_ : motherfucker

.

 _ **mmmblock**_ posted a photo  
 _coffee dates with the boyf_ _ **cplov47  
**_ 233 likes / view all 10 comments  
 **kemphurley** _spoiled  
_ **aleesharivera** _jealous  
_ **shelbwex** _do us all a favor and date already  
_ **arosesinger** ^^

.

"Have I mentioned I want to die?"

"Only twenty times in the past ten minutes."

"Do you think anyone will notice it's me?"

"You're wearing sunglasses."

"My hood is up!"

"Subpar disguise at best," Claire decided. "I could tell it was you from, like, a mile away."

Kemp shot her a look she couldn't see. "It's because you could spot my beauty anywhere, Lyons. You're different than the rest of them."

She rolled her eyes. "Sure, Kemp. That's exactly it."

"They're not that bad," Kristen told him, tapping her fingers on her knees. She was holding one of her textbooks- _such_ a Kristen thing to do, bringing homework to a Friday night football game- and looking out onto the field.

Danny Robbins was already fucking there, blatantly ignoring Skye Hamilton (what happened to them?) and playing with the tiny little skirt Alicia was wearing. Kemp twisted the hem of his sweatshirt, the same one that loudly broadcasted the soccer team, and felt himself seethe. _Why was he touching her?_

Why was she _giggling_?

"Dudes." He turned around to look at his friends, trying to gauge what they knew about Alicia and Massie and the football team. "What the hell is-"

But it was no use.

Massie had decided to talk to Dylan, who was right next to Derrick, who was trying to chug as much of his spiked Coke as possible, his cheeks flushed- from the alcohol? From Massie? Kemp had to admit he was also sort of overwhelmed by the amount of skin the girl was showing but, like, mainly he wanted to cover her up? Give her his sweatshirt?

The blond swallowed roughly, staring at Massie's exposed toned stomach, and turned to share a significant glance with Cam. The latter nodded with a grunt, held his hand out, and knocked his shoulder into Derrick's as if urging him to do something.

Kemp had no idea what that was about, didn't care, really, but his interest was piqued when Cam opened his mouth to say, "Hey, Derrick, I need to talk you about-"

Derrick cut him off: "Not right now, okay? I'm definitely going to throw up just being here."

Cam frowned, Chris looked at them, wide-eyed, and Josh shook his head minisculely in Cam's direction. What did everyone know that Kemp didn't?

Then again, he didn't care, and he took a swig of his own drink, swirling it around in his mouth like mouthwash.

"Maybe you should slow down with the drinking then," Massie said to Derrick, a teasing smirk on her face.

He returned it, tongue darting out over his teeth. Massie watched the action with apt interest.

Kemp looked away, watching Alicia again. She was joined by another one of the cheerleaders- was that one of Skye's friends?- and Jax, Dune's best friend and, like, a mediocre linebacker at best.

"It's not the drinking," Derrick replied behind him. "It's the close proximity to Robbins."

"He's not that bad."

"Who _are_ you?" demanded Derrick, aghast. He slammed his bottle on the bleacher next to him, leaned over. "Danny Robbins sucks."

Massie giggled this flirtatious little thing and Kemp rolled his eyes. "He's good at football."

" _I'm_ good at football," Derrick retorted. "Robbins couldn't throw a touchdown if his life depended on it."

Dylan, who'd been quiet this whole time, flipped the page in her magazine and said, "Statistically Danny will throw three touchdowns this game, so if you two would please stop this gross flirting, I'd really appreciate it. I'm trying to catch up on my winter trends."

Kristen's infamous cackle filled the stunned silence Derrick and Massie left behind.

"Oh my god," Kemp mumbled. "What is he _doing_?"

"What is who- oh, don't worry about that. They do that all the time," Massie told him, cheeks pink. "It's harmless."

" _Harmless_?" Kemp parroted, squinting at the way Danny was whispering to Alicia, at the way she was pressing herself into him, smiling up at him with those… those _come hither_ eyes of hers. Danny's hand slid down her back, rested lightly on her ass, looked like he was _squeezing_ -

Kemp didn't have to look behind him to know Chris looked nauseous.

"They hooked up, like, months ago," informed Massie. "This is normal. I wouldn't be surprised if they did it again tonight."

"We're not going to the after party."

" _I'm_ not," corrected Massie. "I'm going to the diner with you guys. Alicia definitely is though."

Josh wrinkled his nose. "By herself? Is that smart after what happened last time?"

"She cannot go by herself," Kemp decided, like he was her father. "But I refuse to go. I'd rather die."

"So dramatic, all of you," Claire declared, looking over Josh's shoulder as he played on his DS. "Ooh, that one is cute- catch it."

He scoffed. "No. You can't create a quality Pokémon team based on _cuteness_."

"I'll go with her," Chris offered. "Vader and I are still on good terms."

Massie clapped, Kemp frowned, and Derrick chewed the inside of his cheek.

"I'm sure she'd enjoy that," Massie said. She sounded too peppy for her own good, but then again, she was a cheerleader, so.

"Oh my god, I cannot watch this for another second. I'm going down there."

Kemp stood, hopped down to the next row, and started marching towards the field. He heard Massie snap, " _Kemp_!" and then, "Josh, do not let him!"

The boy all but squeaked, muttered to Claire, "Here, I need a fire type, do not catch any normal types because you think they're cute- I will kill you," and jumped after him.

"Hey, buddy," Josh greeted, tossing his arm over his shoulder, which was weird because Kemp was taller than him. "Don't do this, yeah?"

Kemp glared at Danny. "Why not?"

"Well, first off, Alicia will hate you for embarrassing her," Josh started, "and second, I think this might contribute to the guys teasing you over liking her. Or wanting to fuck her."

Kemp wrinkled his nose. "But I don't!"

"So stop acting like you're in love with her!" Josh exclaimed. "It's not fair to her. You're really good at giving out mixed signals."

"But she's-"

"Hey, I'll buy you a snack, do you want a snack?"

"I could eat a hot dog," acquiesced Kemp, looking put out. He spared a glance over at Alicia. She'd disentangled herself from Danny, offering the two of them a wave.

Josh returned it. Kemp didn't.

"Let's get hot dogs," said Josh. "You and D need to eat anyways what with all the drinking you're doing."

"You're drinking too!"

"Yeah, but, like, at a normal pace? We have a whole game to watch still."

Kemp frowned. It felt like that was all his mouth could do today. "We're staying the _whole time_?"

"Mass and Leesh can't leave until it's over."

"Leesh is going to the party-"

"-Mass is not and we can't leave without her."

"Ugh." Kemp made a scene of groaning and stomping to the PTA run BBQ station. "I can't believe this."

"They're our friends," Josh reminded him. "We are supportive."

"I demand they come to our soccer games," snapped Kemp, grabbing a handful of ketchup packets and shoving them in his coat pocket. "I deserve that much for this."

Josh nodded absentmindedly, ordering a bunch of hot dogs and smiling adoringly at someone's mom, who recognized him and began asking questions about the upcoming soccer season. He answered them exuberantly and Kemp hid his face in his sweatshirt to avoid confrontation. The last thing he needed was one of his mother's "friends"- they pretended to be for the sake of the school, but he knew she talked shit behind their backs like everyone else- telling Janice he was trashed at a seven o'clock school football game.

He wasn't punished often (read: ever) but his mother would hate to be embarrassed like this.

Luckily Sue or Karen or Laura did not notice him and they were headed back to the bleachers.

Kemp hummed under his breath, trying to prepare himself for what was to come, and felt a wave of drunkenness crash over him. His face felt hot, and his vision was kind of blurry ( _oops_ ), and he felt himself trip over his feet.

"You good, man?" asked Josh, but he sounded miles away.

"Great," he replied. "Do me a favor, though? Hold this."

He shoved his hand in Josh's, linking their fingers together. His skin was warm. Comforting. Stabilizing.

"Uh, sure," Josh murmured, shifting his hand to make it more comfortable. "But, like. Why?"

"Bros do this all the time, do they not?"

"Um…"

"I just want someone to hold my hand, Josh, is that too much to ask?"

"Nope. Not at all." Josh squeezed him. "Whenever you want it, I'm your guy."

"Awesome," said Kemp, leading the way up the bleachers to their friends. "Do not let go. I'm gonna need the support all game long."

.

"Mother _fucker_ ," Derrick hissed as Danny Robbins, quarterback, caught the ball in the end zone and scored a touchdown on his own.

.

Cam blatantly knocked back what looked like a double shot when there was absolutely _no defense from the other team_ , resulting in some annoying kid running the entire length of the field and scoring for BOCD _again_.

.

"You really need to calm down," Claire said.

"Calm down?" Josh screeched, waving his hands at the field. "The other team _missed_ the extra point! _Missed it_! You have one job!"

.

"Does Dune Baxter _know_ this dance?" demanded Kemp.

"Yeah, it's cute," said Kristen. "He learns the moves and does it with them."

"That's not cute," Chris snapped, glaring at the boy's close proximity to his friends. He thought he saw Massie giggle at him, Alicia bump her hip into his. "It's making me nauseous."

"Again," Claire started, "it's probably all the whiskey."

Chris twisted around to look at her. "You had some, too, young lady."

She smirked at him. "Not that much. Just a teensy bit."

He rolled his eyes.

.

Kemp's sunglasses had somehow ended up on the floor, his hood down, and he watched the field with rapt attention. There was no way the other team- who were they, anyway?- would salvage anything from this, but he really, really wanted them to.

The other quarterback got sacked. While everyone from their high school cheered (the girls with them included) Kemp started screaming.

Cam offered him the water bottle of alcohol.

.

BOCD won 59-13.

"Why are they so _good_?" snapped Chris.

Kristen tapped him on the shoulder twice, almost absentmindedly, but didn't say anything.

Dylan flipped through her magazine and sing-songed, "You guys have _posters_ of yourselves literally hanging on our walls."

"Yeah!" agreed Claire, who was tipping over- how drunk could she have gotten from, like, three pulls? It was super strong, but _still_ \- into Cam's shoulder. He knocked into her side to keep her upright. "Just the other day I watched Shelby Wexler's annoying friend do this, like, massive photo shoot with Kemp's."

"Is that why you were late for class?" Josh asked.

Claire nodded. "I was amazed. Like, who wants to take a picture with Kemp, you know?"

"Offended," Kemp declared.

"Good," returned Claire.

Kemp leaned forward to pinch her nose.

"Stop looking so put out," Kristen said to Derrick, who honestly looked like someone had punched him in the face, made fun of his mother, and cancelled the current soccer season. "It's just a football game."

"It's not _just_ a football game!"

Kristen shot Dylan- she knew him best (besides Cam, but that boy did not know how to read her facial expressions)- a bewildered look.

The redhead tossed her hair over her shoulder, gestured to the field, and said, "The Harrington men are football legacies. Derrick hates football therefore putting a strain on his family life and ultimately making him the black sheep." She paused, sniffed a perfume sample. "His dad also assistant coaches the football team."

"Oh my god," squealed Claire, "is your dad _here_?"

Derrick shook his head. "As if I'd be here if he was." He scoffed. "He's on a business trip. Probably fucking his secretary on the plane, but, like, whatever, I guess."

"That was super casual," noted Kristen, brows furrowed in concern.

"Yeah, his infidelity is super casual." Derrick mocked her tone. "Like. Whatever. I don't care. He's an asshole."

Cam was staring at him very intently, almost as if he was a scientific experiment or a new, interesting breed of dog. He licked his lips, tore his gaze away, squinted at the field. "Where the fuck is Massie?" he demanded. "I'm hungry." He leaned forward and mussed Derrick's hair affectionately.

Derrick swatted at his hand, squeezing his index finger.

"If I have to sit here any longer and watch _that_ "- Kemp nodded towards the incredibly stupid group hug thing the football team was doing- "I'm going to gauge my eyes out."

"Poetic," came the voice of Massie. She was standing behind him, cheerleading warm-up jacket zipped up to her chin. Her hair was still in that cute little updo, but her bow was removed, and she'd scrubbed the blush off her cheeks.

Kemp swatted at her knee. "That skirt is too short."

"Sorry, Dad," she teased, wiggling her hips at him. "Are we ready to go? How are we getting there?"

"Walking?" Josh answered as if it were obvious.

" _Uuuuuugh_ ," Dylan moaned. " _Whyyyyyyy_?"

"I'll carry you," said Derrick, jumping to his feet.

"Piggyback ride?"

"Piggyback ride." He dropped two rows down. "Hop on."

"Carry my things for me, Kristen!"

"Carry her things for her, Josh."

Massie pressed a kiss to Plovert's cheek. "Alicia is waiting for you by the locker room. She wanted to redo her eyeliner."

Chris took her face in his hands. "Pray for me."

She clasped her hands together, closed her eyes. "Done."

"Dylan," Josh whined, "why do you have so many things?"

.

"Heeeeeeeeee-llo!" Alicia's voice sounded as the bell above the diner door chimed.

She had looped her arm through Chris's, eyes sparkling, smile wide. The boy, on the other hand, looked more like he'd been to hell and back again, though slightly drunker than he'd been earlier.

"How long have we been here?" asked Derrick, looking up from his plate of nachos. "It can't have been more than an hour."

"It wasn't." Chris threw himself in an empty chair. "Alicia drank three cups of punch in under twenty minutes and then got bored."

"It's because you guys weren't there," she said sincerely.

"And I thought I was going to die there." Chris sighed, reaching over to snatch some of Massie's chili cheese fries. "Felt like I was in some gang war film. No one talked to me except for Ali and-"

"-and I couldn't just babysit him, you know?"

"No, I had to babysit _you_." Chris shot her a look though it was more tender than anything else. "That punch was strong, babe."

Alicia wrinkled her nose and turned towards Kemp. "Are you gonna drink that? Can I drink it?"

He blinked, but pushed his chocolate milkshake over. She slurped on it, cheeks pink, and surveyed the group.

"So, what are we up to?" she asked.

"Making fun of Massie," supplied Josh.

"Guys, this is a _big deal_ ," Massie insisted, jaw taut.

Cam waved his fork around in the air. "Not really. Just pick a theme and submit it to your party planner person. It's not that hard."

"Yes, it is! It needs to be perfect." Massie slid down in her seat. "I can't, like, do a-"

"If you say murder mystery one more time I will murder you and it most definitely won't be a mystery," threatened Kemp.

Claire snorted into her salad.

"What is the criteria again?" Derrick asked, popping a jalapeno in his mouth. When Massie stared at him blankly, he cleared his throat and elaborated, "What does Ripple want the party to be like?"

"Oh my god," said Massie, once she understood. She thumbed through her phone. "Halloweeny, but not. Fancy, but not. Must incorporate rose-gold, like I am some sort of Apple iPhone manufacturer. If she has to dress up, she wants to be a _cat_ or something equally as basic-"

"Nope," Derrick decided. "No costumes. We did that already."

"Who died and made you the king of Halloween?" Dylan inquired. She twisted her frizzing curls into a bun at the nape of her neck. " _No costumes_."

Massie chewed the inside of her cheek, looking at her phone screen thoughtfully. "I mean," she started, "he's got a point. I kind of… I wanted to do something black tie, I think, but the only thing I could think of was-"

"-if you say masquerade, I will stab you with this fork."

She looked up, met Kemp's eyes. "How'd you guess?"

"Murder mystery and masquerade are not that far off," he supplied, "and they are two parties I never want to participate in."

"But you would look so good in one of those little masks," Alicia offered.

Kemp swallowed, nodding curtly. "Regardless. I'm not down for that."

"Why don't you just make it a standard black tie event?" Cam suggested, words muffled and hard to understand as he gnawed on a carrot. "People in this town go crazy for that shit."

"That's what you told me you were doing," Josh piped up. "A gala thing, right? Like something from _Gossip Girl_. We watched that episode, like, six times, what was it call-"

"The Kiss on the Lips party," the girls said in unison.

Chris wrinkled his nose. "As long as it isn't called something stupid like that, I'll go."

"Ripple Baxter would not pass up a party like that," Kristen mused. "And she can wear rose gold or whatever, or there can be, like, rose gold chocolates, or- I dunno, actually." She shrugged her shoulders. "Make it decadent and fancy."

"Also remind her that while it's her birthday it's still a Massie Block party," Derrick added. "She has about ten percent say in what you end up doing."

Claire bobbed her head in agreement, fighting a yawn. "Remember my thirteenth birthday party? The only part that was totally me was that… that it was _my_ birthday. Massie did all of it."

Massie sighed in remembrance. "That was a good one."

"Didn't you get an elephant?"

"And thousands of pounds of gummies?"

"Yes and yes." Massie nodded. "Some of my best work." She unlocked her phone once more and pulled up Ripple Baxter's contact info, prepping a new text. "I'm gonna tell her our plan," she alerted the ground, fingers tapping away. "I already have a vague idea, but it'll be super fancy. Outfits-wise only, of course, I don't expect us to be on our best behaviors."

"I hope not," mumbled Kemp, looking upset that he'd have to wear a tux, even though he owned five different ones.

"It'll be like Upper East Side meets Westchester."

"Blair Waldorf meets Massie Block," Alicia tested out, considering it. "I like it."

Josh dipped a fry in what was left of Kemp's shake. "I'm kind of scared, to be honest."

"Wanna be my date?" Alicia asked of Kemp.

Kemp felt his whole body heat up uncomfortably, remembering what his friends had mocked him about, and they watched him (surreptitiously, obviously) as he floundered. But he took one look at Alicia's big brown eyes and timid- why'd it look like that?- smile and overall fucking flawless face and blurted, "Yeah, of course, who else would I go with?"

She seemed to glow at his response.

One of the boys snorted. Cam, probably. He was a dick.

"I think I wanna wear-"

"Red?" guessed Chris.

"I was gonna say green."

"Weird. Massie, are you-"

"Nope, probably gold," said the brunette. "That's another thing I should mention to Ripple. My house, my rules: if someone is wearing any kind of gold, it's me. Sorry."

"You're not actually," Derrick said.

"No." She smiled at him. "I'm not."

"I'm probably going to do blue," decided Claire. "No surprise there."

Cam kicked at her shin. "Want to do blue together? That's totally my color."

"Sure," Claire answered a little too quickly. She lifted her glass of water to her mouth and drank, trying to make up for it.

Kristen frowned at them, then announced, "I don't know what color I'm doing."

"I'll do that with you," Chris told her. "I feel like you look nice in pink though."

"You're only saying that because you look nice in pink."

"You're right."

"I guess that just leaves you and me," Derrick said to Dylan.

She cocked her head to the side, confused. "Shouldn't you be going with Sadie? You know, since you're dating?"

"And leave my best girl hanging? Nah." Derrick propped his feet in her lap. "She'll understand. Besides, she'll probably want to get ready and stuff with Saylene."

Dylan eyed him skeptically. "If you're sure…"

"Yep," he answered, even though he wasn't.

"This poor girl is going to need a crash course in our friendships," Kristen decided. "Like. Is she aware how dependent we seem to be on each other?"

"Even _I'm_ not one hundred percent aware of that," Kemp replied, "how can we expect her to be?"

"This might be why people seem to hate us together," said Cam.

"Sucks to be them, then, I guess," Josh responded. "Hey, you gonna eat that?"

* * *

 **SPOTTED: You at Massie Block's house on Saturday, October 28th.**

 **Little Ripple Baxter is turning the big 1-4, and there's no better way to ring in the birthday of one of Westchester's elite than with a black tie affair. Slip on your best pair of pearls, break in those new Louboutins, and get ready to binge-drink the best champagne money can buy.**

 **Jeans, Keds, and other unmentionables will get you the boot. Guys, please shine those dress shoes and trim your hair. We won't stand for sneakers or shaggy locks on a night like this.**

 **Party starts at 9PM. Ends whenever we decide. I'll be wearing the gold Versace - see if you can spot me ;)**

 **You know you love me.**

.

 _ **Derrick Harrington**_ : this invite  
 _ **Derrick Harrington**_ : as if they wouldn't find you it's your house  
 _ **Massie Block**_ : lol shut up


	12. A Little Party Never Killed Nobody

**a/n** : sorry for the delay, guys. it's the most hectic time of the year at work and i'm going through, like, an emotional crisis of 1) a break up and 2) being half in love with my coworker? idk. it's a lot to be me. imma just drink my wine and let y'all get to this chapter. a little bit of excitement, a little bit of not. the next one is not even a little bit written, but there's a vague idea so we'll see how i manage...

also! i'm going to write a oneshot series soon, so if you have any pairings/prompts/etc you'd like to see, write them in the review. i'm open to anything!

warning: hardly edited. which means not at all. wanted to get it out there for you!

* * *

 **TWO WEEKS TO GO**

.

 _ **Claire Lyons**_ : im really torn btwn these two blues  
 _ **Claire Lyons**_ : Attachment: 1 Photo  
 _ **Claire Lyons**_ : Attachment: 1 Photo  
 _ **Massie Block**_ : idk why you aren't wearing white, like that's clearly more you buuuuut  
 _ **Massie Block**_ : navy

.

Massie grimaced at the images she received from Landon Dorsey, not sure if she wanted to burn her retinas or toss her whole computer out the window and purchase another one. She thumbed through her phone and found the woman's number instead, and left a seething message on her voicemail.

"Hey, it's Massie," she began, sounding calm, cool, and collected. "Just wondering what part of ' _black tie affair_ ' and ' _not Halloween-themed in the slightest_ ' made you think cutesy ghost patterns would fly with me. Do not make me fire you and book Kiera Cunningham- she did Skye Hamilton's Sweet and it was _immaculate_."

.

 _ **Cam Fisher**_ : just come with me to the tux place so i can match ur dress  
 _ **Claire Lyons**_ : kk  
 _ **Cam Fisher**_ : ill be at ur place in like 15  
 _ **Claire Lyons**_ : wait were going today? shit i need to get out of bed  
 _ **Cam Fisher**_ : the clock is ticking lyons

.

"Personally I think more of a forest green matches your skin tone and eyes."

"Personally I think I do not care," Kemp replied, not unkindly. His gaze was focused on her face, picking apart the perfections- not _im_ perfections, it seemed like she had none of those- and studying them. The tiny smattering of freckles on her nose. The arch of her brows. Her full lips. She was so pretty.

Alicia rolled her eyes. "At least pretend for me, please," she half-snapped, flipping through a magazine for inspiration. "I know this isn't your, like, _thing_ , but it's mine, and-"

"Hey, hey, hey," Kemp interrupted, reaching his hand out and almost knocking his coffee over. "I'm saying I don't care about the color. Pick what looks good for you. I can pull anything off."

She kicked his ankle under the table, coughing around a laugh. "I get that you don't want to go, but-"

"I only don't want to go because it's stupid, because Massie shouldn't even be throwing it in the first place, and because Ripple definitely has a crush on me and I don't know how to handle it." Kemp ran his hand over his head, tugging at his hair. "I want to go because I'm going with you. It'll be fun."

Alicia's cheeks turned pink and Kemp realized he probably said the wrong thing, but there was no taking it back. And it wasn't like he was lying.

.

 _ **Layne Abeley**_ : after much consideration i think yall just need jesus  
 _ **Cam Fisher**_ : says the girl who still refuses to tell me if the rumor that shes kissed her brothers exgirlfriend is true  
 _ **Layne Abeley**_ : fawn is so not my type dude  
 _ **Cam Fisher**_ : fawn so is your type dude  
 _ **Layne Abeley**_ : also just like sit the squad down and tell them, im stressed about this mess youre getting yuorself into  
 _ **Cam Fisher**_ : our songwriting has never been so good tho!  
 _ **Layne Abeley**_ : cameron i swear to god  
 _ **Cam Fisher**_ : i didnt realize you were so religious until this exchange  
 _ **Layne Abeley**_ : how do i lose your number

.

Derrick frowned at the colors being thrust in his face and pouted at Dylan in the mirror. "Why are _both_ your sisters here?"

"All of our dreams are coming true," Jamie Marvil said, brown hair messy on the top of her head. Her college sweatshirt had a tiny stain on the neck and sort of smelled like a rum and Coke, but Derrick kept his mouth shut. "My Dylly and Derry are going to a fancy-schmancy party together!"

Dylan, lounging behind them in a huge armchair, called out, "I always thought you wanted me and Cam together."

Ryan Marvil popped out of their mother's expansive walk-in closet for _The Daily Grind_ , holding up numerous dresses Merri-Lee had never worn that they could take in for Dylan. "Either one is fine with us."

"And like I said three years ago: Pass."

"I also have a girlfriend," Derrick reminded them, trying to shimmy away from another comparison test. They all knew Dylan was either going to choose white or black which meant he could technically pick any color tie he wanted, but…

Dylan snorted from behind him. Jamie and Ryan shared a look, like they _knew_ something, and Derrick shifted uncomfortably.

"Send that yellow dress back," ordered Dylan. "You know I can't wear that. It's like you are trying to sabotage me."

"How long have you been dating your girlfriend, Der?" asked Jamie, running her fingers through his hair. He refrained from slapping her hand away from him. "What's her name? How'd you meet?"

"Like, three months," he answered. "Uh, Sadie, and we both lifeguarded at the same country club over the summer."

He thought he heard Ryan whisper to Dylan _won't last, summer fling_ but he wasn't quite sure if that was her voice or the one in his head.

.

 _ **Josh Hotz**_ posted in _**boyzzz**_ : i kind of want to die  
 _ **Cam Fisher**_ : babe whats wrong  
 _ **Josh Hotz**_ : im tryna focus on my math hw but massie wont stop bothering me about her dress and tablecloth colors  
 _ **Josh Hotz**_ : like this is not a wedding i do not care if its eggshell or offwhite  
 _ **Chris Plovert**_ : should be black so we can all spill our expensive champagne on it  
 _ **Josh Hotz**_ : maybe u should party plan with her  
 _ **Chris Plovert**_ : dude i am about to text her now, i live for this shit  
 _ **Kemp Hurley**_ : im bringing a keg i cant with this fucking champagne nonsense if i wanted a mimosa id go to brunch  
 _ **Derrick Harrington**_ : thank fuck  
 _ **Cam Fisher**_ : massie is gonna hate that  
 _ **Kemp Hurley**_ : she can fight me for all i care a dude needs his cheap ass beer amirite

* * *

 **ONE WEEK TO GO**

.

"None of this is what I wanted." Ripple Baxter cornered- theoretically, of course, as she was just standing in the middle of the cafeteria- Massie, arms crossed over her sequin trapeze top.

"The lunch special is pretty bad today," Massie agreed, knowing very well that wasn't what she was talking about. "That's why I got this shrimp thai salad."

Ripple quirked a brow, tapped her foot. "You know that's not what I'm talking about."

"How about you trust me, Ripple?" shot back Massie. Her eyes surveyed the crowd, looking for her friends. All of them were at the new table eighteen, but only Derrick caught her gaze.

He tilted his head ever so slightly, she blinked, and then he was saying something to the group, pushing his chair back.

"It's my birthday."

"That I'm throwing. You must know at this point that what I say goes. That's why I haven't answered any of your annoying texts or emails."

" _My_ birthday, _my_ -"

An arm tossed itself over Massie's shoulder and she gritted her teeth to repress the shiver Derrick's touch produced within her. "Hey, Ripple, how's it going?" Derrick smiled at her. Massie watched the dreaminess overcome her.

"Hey," she returned, "I'm good. How are you?"

Massie was impressed by her coolness. No stuttering, nothing embarrassing- just the telltale pink cheeks and kind of glazed over eyes.

"Great. I'm really stoked for your birthday," he went on, squeezing Massie ever so slightly. It was as if he were telling her to play along, but play along with what? "Have you picked out your dress? I know Massie said you wanted something rose-gold, but she's wearing gold…"

Massie elbowed him.

"Yeah." Ripple frowned. "I haven't actually."

"That's good because just this morning Massie was telling me she'd found you the most perfect dress and that's why she changed the whole theme. What did you say about it, Block?"

Massie narrowed her eyes at him, but said, sweetly, to Ripple, "It would be a complete disgrace if you didn't wear it. It's to die for. Totally you. Send me your measurements and I'll have it all set up for you. You're coming over early to get ready with us, right? Your whole group is invited."

"We are?"

"Of course!" Massie trilled, swallowing her annoyance. "It is _your_ birthday, after all. I'm just planning the party."

When Ripple sashayed away, less angry than she was when she arrived, Massie pinched the skin of Derrick's elbow. "I cannot _stand_ you."

"You gave me the _I need help_ look, so I provided you with some."

"I was hoping Alicia would have seen it!" Massie exclaimed, stressed. "I don't have a dress for Ripple. I don't have _any_ thing for Ripple."

Derrick shrugged. "So you get one. What's so hard about it?"

"Ugh. Get away from me."

"Love you, too," he teased, dimpling. He stole a piece of shrimp from the salad in her hands and chewed.

Massie's heart beat faster and harder in her chest as she blurted, "You're coming with me to pick out the dress."

"Uhhhhhhhh, why?"

"I need a ride." Massie slid into her seat. "And it's your fault I have to do this, so."

.

 _ **Kemp Hurley**_ : broski  
 _ **Kemp Hurley**_ : mass sent me a threatening email  
 _ **Kemp Hurley**_ : why she used email is beyond me but  
 _ **Kemp Hurley**_ : since ur like half in a relationship with her can u smooth things over like ofc i'll drink some champagne but a dude does not want to drink ONLY champagne  
 _ **Chris Plovert**_ : "i have half a mind to just uninvite him but whatever i guess not like this party MATTERS (put that in all caps thanks) he can have his stupid keg in my garage"  
 _ **Kemp Hurley**_ : angels does she want some  
 _ **Chris Plovert**_ : "no i am classy AF"  
 _ **Kemp Hurley**_ : i hope she vomits  
 _ **Chris Plovert**_ : "i hope HE (all caps thanks) vomits"

.

Chris sighed, taking the glass from Dylan and sniffing the liquid inside. "I'm confused why you're the one in charge of the drinks," he commented before knocking it back. "Isn't Massie hiring a party planner?"

"She is," replied Dylan, looking at him expectantly, "but after our last party, Landon refuses to provide bartenders and alcohol to minors, no matter how much we offer her."

He blinked behind his glasses. "I don't think I want to know."

"You don't!" Dylan responded cheerfully. "So what do you think?"

"Good." He thought about it, about the burn and warmth the beverage provided. "Kind of strong, but nothing wrong with that. What is it? Hennessey?"

Dylan nodded, red curls bouncing. "I agree wholeheartedly with Kemp: not just champagne. Like _come on_ , I'm not my grandma."

"I like champagne, but I see the point. I also thought Massie was being dramatic."

"She is." Dylan giggled. "But she's not going to tell Kemp that. She likes to rile him up."

"Next one," he demanded, tapping her hand. "I'm ready to be drunk at four PM."

"I can't believe you skipped soccer practice for this."

"I can," said Chris. "But I will regret it tomorrow when I have to run an extra seven miles as punishment, so make this count, Dyl Pickle."

"As you wish."

.

 _ **Derrick Harrington**_ : hey can I ask you a question  
 _ **Massie Block**_ : the last time you copied my French homework Lacroix figured it out so no  
 _ **Derrick Harrington**_ : that's not what I was going to ask  
 _ **Derrick Harrington**_ : we have French hw?  
 _ **Massie Block**_ : ya  
 _ **Derrick Harrington**_ : fuck  
 _ **Massie Block**_ : what did u wanna ask me  
 _ **Derrick Harrington**_ : not now the assignment is due online in 20 minutes g2g

.

Kristen threw herself down next to Claire, propping her feet up on the seat across from her. She yawned, covering her mouth with her fist. "Where's everyone else?" she asked.

"Mass is getting the coffees, Alicia accompanied her, and Dylan is in the other room confirming our spa reservations."

"You okay?" Kristen asked, noticing the tense way in which Claire answered. "You sound…" _Angry. Upset. Stressed._

There was a moment of silence, kind of awkward, kind of not, and then Claire blurted, "You and Cam are on good terms again, right?"

"Sort of, I guess," Kristen replied. "Not the same, like… we don't tell each other everything, you know, but we tell each other enough."

"Would he tell you how he feels about people?" Claire coughed. "About girls, specifically?"

"Um, I'm no-"

But now that Claire started, she couldn't stop, not to listen to Kristen's response. "Like, has he said anything about me?" She chewed on her lower lip, averting her gaze and playing with her phone, which she unceremoniously tossed in Kristen's lap. "Look at his messages. Tell me if I'm making it all up. If I'm just, like, nostalgic for something."

Kristen's mouth felt dry as she read through Cam and Claire's texts from the past two weeks- discussions on their matching outfits (again Kristen wondered why Cam had asked her to go), casual conversation, weird emoji wars- and couldn't figure out what any of it meant. It was similar to the way Cam texted her, but kind of flirtier and kind of not, if that made sense. Kristen knew Cam, she knew the way he talked, the way he interacted with girls; this was and was not that way. It was a conundrum. A mess.

"I don't know," she replied honestly, and then, feeling nauseous, she added, "Want me to find out for you?"

Claire's eyes sparkled. "Would you?" she asked eagerly. "You could, like, definitely put in a good word for me. He trusts you."

"Yeah," Kristen said flatly. "He does."

"You're the best, Kris."

"Yup," she agreed in the same tone. "I am."

* * *

 **OCTOBER 29**

.

"Is there a polite way to ask what their names are again?" Alicia whispered furiously, mouth pressed close to Massie's ear. Her voice carried, though, and her question made it all the way over to Dylan- not that Dylan was far, but still.

The girl snorted and Dylan swiped at the mess she'd made of her mascara. "Ugh," she groaned, flapping her hands.

Kristen swooped in, patting at Dylan's eyes with a makeup wipe.

"I got it," murmured Claire, sliding her golden headband in place. "Hey!" she called to the group of younger girls, huddled by a mirror Massie had pulled from her mother's closet. "Do I follow you guys on Instagram? What are your handles?"

"Fucking genius," Alicia said lowly, fascinated as Claire solved their problem in under five minutes...and _nicely_. It was baffling.

There was Ripple, obviously ( _ripplebax_ ); Janelle, the tiny one that looked like Layne ( _j_nelly_ ); Melinda, the Kristen-Olivia mix ( _melllllllllllllldx3_ ); and Estefani, Steph, for short, the Alicia clone ( _esteflopez_ ). They all followed Claire in seconds, liking the latest pictures to come up, and the ice melted. It was like they were all friends now, had been friends for years, not pushed together by two stubborn alphas, who, at this point in time, were tiptoeing around each other due to creative differences.

"Your hair looks _ah-mazing_ in this one," Alicia gushed to Steph, who looked like she was going to pass out. "Who do you go to? Not Jakkob?"

"No," Steph chattered cheerfully, "I don't go anywhere, actually. My grandmother does it."

Alicia blinked, brought her phone closer to her face, and then threw her arm out to touch the girl's hair. " _Seriously_?"

"Who wants to do shots?" hollered Dylan, pulling a bottle of cranberry vodka out of her overnight bag, waving it excitedly in the air.

Janelle's hand flew into the air.

"Wait, so, are your cute boyfriends coming?" asked Kristen, cheeks pink with blush and alcohol. "Wait," she said again, making a face, "do you have cute boyfriends?"

Melinda shyly offered up information. She was with Carter Alexander, JV captain of the lacrosse team, and he would be there with the rest of his friends, a mix of lacrosse players and not. She was the only one with a steady boyfriend; they'd been together since December of their eighth grade year. Kristen, two shots in, cooed over their pictures.

They pregamed some more and the Pretty Committee was reminded just how old these girls were when Ripple, in the middle of having Massie do her winged eyeliner, asked Claire tentatively if Todd would be there. Her friends collectively giggled, even Melinda, and Claire looked like she was going to vomit, watching girls react like this to _her brother's name_. But she responded favorably- he would be there, him and Nate and Josh Bankman- and they all shared significant looks with each other.

"If I see any of you hooking up with my _brother_ "- she overemphasized here- "I will probably throw up."

Janelle flashed her a coy little smile, batting her ridiculously long lashes. "So, we just don't do it anywhere near you."

"Oh my _god_ ," Dylan couldn't help but squeal. "I can't believe this. I honestly cannot believe girls think _Toad_ is cute."

Kristen shrugged a shoulder. "If you take away who he is as a person, the fact that we've known him for…" She counted on her fingers. "For, like, four years, watched him start puberty… he _is_ cute. Objectively."

" _Kristen_!"

"Hey." She put her hands up. "The older siblings probably think that about us, so…"

"I've been cute my whole life," argued Alicia.

"Yeah," Massie shot at her, "but some of us went through awkward phases."

Dylan brushed highlighter on her cheekbones. "I think I'm still going through mine. Have you seen my hair lately? What's up with that?"

Claire tossed her makeup sponge at her. "You actually need to do your hair for it to look like more than a mess of curls," she reminded her.

"It is always a mess of curls, no matter what I do." Dylan picked at it, straightened and put in a tasteful fishtail down her back. "I should just get better products," she resolved, frowning.

"Or, you know, _brush_ it someti-"

"The boys are here," Alicia announced, checking her phone. "Should we have waited to pregame with them? I don't think I can stomach another three shots."

"Nah," said Massie, throwing her door open. She sent Ripple a wink. "You guys good if Derrick, Cam, Josh, Kemp, and Chris head up here?"

The freshman looked thrilled to death at the thought. "Of course," she squeaked.

"They'll catch up," Massie told Alicia. "Let me get them. Finish your makeup."

Alicia sighed grandly. "I can't believe I drank with only _one_ eye done!"

"I'll help you," Steph offered, popping up. "Which palette were you using?"

"Uh." Alicia scanned the various eyeshadows around her: Nakeds, and Kylie Cosmetics, and shimmering palettes from Tarte and MAC and Sephora. "I'm not-"

"It was this one," Ripple said, pulling the Tartelette Toasted palette out from under a pile of neglected makeup bags and vetoed hair accessories. "I remember because I personally think you should be using gold but you want to stay hella neutral."

Alicia blinked at her reflection, considering the browns in her crease and the taupe all over her kid. "You know what… I have no idea what I even did here. I'm just going to…" She snatched a makeup wipe and scrubbed at her eye. "Let's do gold!"

"Let's do shots!" came Kemp's voice from the doorway.

Alicia squeaked, covering her eyes with her hands. "Oh my god," she whispered. "This is-"

Steph and Melinda hurried to flutter around her, grabbing eyeshadows and liners and highlighters before Melinda announced, "We're good on the shots for now. We'll be in the bathroom."

As the three girls giggled their way into the other room, Kemp asked, "Why do girls always go to the bathroom together?"

"Forget that," Claire said, patting him on the shoulder. He looked incredibly handsome in his dark suit, his tie a perfect match of Alicia's emerald jumpsuit. "Let's do those shots, yeah?"

"Oh, Lyons." Kemp squeezed her cheeks. "You always know what to say."

Claire made a face, nose wrinkling. Cam snorted somewhere behind them, and when she looked over to find him- she knew it was him, of course; she practically memorized his sounds- she caught him eyeing the curve of Massie's spine in her dress, the slit cutting up the entire length of her bronzed leg.

"Claire very rarely knows what to say," Dylan teased, fixing one of Claire's messy waves. "She's just been practicing lately."

Kemp grinned. "Excellent work, my little lovebug."

Claire shoved Dylan's shoulder.

"Now," Kemp started, "do we want more of whatever that shit is-"

"-it's very good cranberry vodka!" Dylan snapped, offended.

"-or this extremely fancy, extremely expensive tequila I got us?" Kemp finished as if Dylan hadn't spoken. She shot him a dirty look.

"Where's that keg you threatened me with?" Massie asked, batting her sparkly lashes in his direction.

"In the garage." Kemp measured out a shot glass, filling it a little _too_ much, and pressed it in Claire's hand. It sloshed over the side, getting all over her fingers. "Like you said."

"Do I have to wait for you, or-?" asked Claire, not liking the way Cam was _still_ looking at Massie, like she was a snack, or something he could just devour at that very moment.

Kemp gasped. "Of course you do, how _dare_ -"

"Where's Todd?" asked Janelle, interrupting Kemp and shimmying her way in between Plovert and Josh. "He's here, right? Or is he… is he at your house?"

"Yeah!" Josh chimed in, alarmed at Janelle's presence. "Where is Little Lyons?"

Claire shot a thumb in the direction of the guesthouse. She frowned again at their interest in her brother and chose to ignore Kemp, knocking the tequila shot back. It slid easily down her throat but settled uncomfortably in her stomach...or maybe that was just Cam that made her feel that way. Had he always acted like that?

She remembered the mixed tapes and the sweet dates and thoughtful gifts on anniversaries and holidays and for no good reason. She remembered the dimple when he smiled at her. The way his nose wrinkled when his grin was too big for his face.

So, no. He hadn't always acted like this.

Sure, he'd had his moments. Moments where his hands went places she didn't want them. Moments when she had to ask him to stop. He'd listened, of course, but…

This all started _after_ her. Post-ClaireAndCam.

He'd never looked at her that way. Like he wanted to simultaneously eat her up and hide her from the rest of the world. Protect her and destroy her. The glimmer in his eye, the way he sat too close, leaned in too far.

Claire chewed the inside of her cheek, met Josh's gaze. He looked away quickly, loosening his bow tie like he was nervous. Uncomfortable, maybe.

She reached for the sleek bottle Kemp brought.

"You gonna wait for me this time, Clairebear?"

"Depends on how long you plan on making me wait," she retorted.

"I'm just trying to distribute shots to everyone who wants," Kemp rebutted, this teasing tone in his voice. "I'm a good host."

"This isn't even your party," Massie shot back. Cam's fingers were playing with the skirt of her dress. He asked what kind of material it was.

"We'll see about that." Kemp winked. "Anyone want another?"

Dylan opted for another. When she wiped her mouth with her hand, her lipstick spread all across her skin and she groaned. "Why do I even bother?"

"Typical." Chris bumped her shoulder. "Did you forget you were wearing makeup again?"

"Obviously." She frowned at him. "Why are you wearing a pink shirt?"

"Because I can," he replied. "Is there a rule that says I can only use my tie to match? My mom custom-ordered this."

From the other side of the room, Derrick hollered, "Is she pretending she's on _Fashion Police_ again?"

"Stop being so mean to me!" she yelled back.

"It's what I'm good at!" Derrick returned, plopping down on Massie's immaculately made bed. The girl sighed in exasperation as he wrinkled the comforter, creased the pillows. "Plov, I think you look handsome."

Chris pressed a hand to his forehead, feigning a swoon. "Will you save me a dance?"

"If you play your cards right you'll get more than that," Derrick said with a sly smirk.

Chris fanned his face.

Kristen choked on her cackle. "Are you guys all dating?"

"Yep," answered Cam. "But D's my number one."

"We knew that already," Alicia said, emerging from the bathroom. Her eye makeup was gorgeous- neutral with just enough gold to make it classy- and she paused to let everyone take it in. "How'd your anniversary go?" she asked.

(Her Instagram Story would later proclaim to her numerous followers that Steph and Melinda did her entire face.)

"Fantastically, if I do say so myself," replied Cam. "So romantic."

"The boxers were a beautiful gift," added Derrick. "I only got him a tie."

Cam leaned over to pinch his cheek. "Your love is enough for me."

Ripple blinked from her spot near Kemp, tilting her head at them and letting her curly blonde hair cascade over her shoulder. "Is this a normal thing that goes on?"

Kristen patted her knee. "If you hang out with them enough you get used to it. You'll always be second best with them."

The younger shook her head, bamboozled, and tapped the tequila bottle with a manicured nail.

"Let's play a game," suggested Alicia. "We still have time until the guests start arriving and I'm, like, so not ready to deal with Skye and her harpies."

"What's the deal with you guys?" Janelle asked at the same time Kemp decided, "Never Have I Ever."

Dylan was the only to answer Janelle's question. "It's a mutual relationship of publicized love but private hatred," she explained. She wiped the rest of the lipstick off her mouth. "She's threatened by Massie, I think-"

"-which is beyond me, she's been Queen of this social hierarchy for too long to be intimidated by _me-_ "

Derrick scoffed, interrupting both Dylan's explanation and Massie's rebuttal. "She's got every reason to be nervous when you're around; you're Massie Block."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Massie demanded.

"We all know who the real deal is here," Derrick answered, and he left it at that.

Massie looked like she wanted to say more, eyes trained on the boy, mouth slightly agape. But she remained silent and Dylan did not seem to see the need to explain any further.

So Steph, sidling up to Ripple, did what any person would do in this situation. She started the game: "Never have I ever dated someone in this room."

"No one has any drinks!" Kemp exclaimed.

"Low blow, Lopez," Derrick shot at her, flashing her one of his infamous smiles (the one where he dimpled and most girls, like, definitely wet themselves). "I'd watch your back if I were you."

Impressively, Steph kept a neutral face.

"Oh, yeah," agreed Cam, taking a swig of Dylan's vodka instead of waiting for a drink, "we'll get you for that one."

.

When it was Derrick's turn, he said, "Never have I ever been Spanish." Both Alicia and Steph had to drink.

"I would just like you to know that I'm _Hispanic_ ," Steph informed, clicking her tongue. "It's not the same."

"You still drank," Kemp retorted, features pinched in confusion.

"For the sake of the game," Steph said, "and because I want to be drunk."

"My _duuude_." Chris leaned over Massie and Claire to clink empty shot glasses with her.

* * *

 _Glad that you made it, look around  
You don't see one person sitting down  
They got drinks in their hands and the room's a bust  
At the end of the night maybe you'll find love  
_\- "A Little Party Never Killed Nobody (All We Got)," Fergie

* * *

She didn't know what it was about her that, for some reason, attracted the creeps.

Or, more specifically, attracted Dempsey Solomon.

There were only so many ways she could reject him, right? Hadn't she?

Okay, well, maybe she hadn't, but at the same time… couldn't he tell she wasn't interested? Didn't he get the _hint_? How much more explicit could she be?

"So," Dempsey said, running his thumb around his cup, "I want to- to, uh, apologize." His eyebrow twitched; his nose wrinkled. Clearly he hadn't done this in a while, or maybe ever, by the looks of it.

Kristen refrained from pulling at her updo- Claire would hate if her braids went to waste- and met his nervous gaze head-on. "Apologize," she repeated flatly. _This would be good_.

He nodded once, eyes flicking to his drink and back to her face. Her nose, more specifically, like he couldn't keep eye contact.

"You can drink," she told him, an edge to her polite tone.

Dempsey brought his mixed drink to his mouth.

Chugged.

Idly, Kristen wondered if it were the concoction Dylan had whipped up with Chris. It was a mix of champagne, apple cider, and caramel vodka. She'd even gone as far as dicing up apples to toss into it. It was good. Very fall-like.

"Yeah, so," Dempsey started again, "I'm sorry. I'm not… I'm not, like. Used to girls not wanting me."

Kristen blinked. Felt like the whole world froze. "Unfortunate."

"Yeah, so," he repeated, "that's why I was kind of, like, acting like a predator? I didn't _get_ it, and- I mean, I still don't, but-"

"I am just not into you," Kristen told him. "That's all. I'd really like for you to remember that girls can act like boys and we don't always have feelings for people when we makeout with them. And that's… that's what it was." She swallowed around the lump in her throat, feeling itchy all over. "I just made out with you. Because I wanted to. Not because…"

Dempsey licked his lips. "Because you like me."

"Do you even like me?"

"I could."

 _I could_.

Kristen scoffed. "Right. So could I. Now, if you'll…"

Dempsey's hand shot out before she could leave. "Kristen, please-"

She tried to pull herself away but found his grip was too tight. Why were boys always like this? Thinking she belonged to them? Thinking she didn't have the right to walk away from them when she wanted?

While he tried to appeal to her, Kristen frantically scanned the room around her, trying to find a way out. Her friends seemed to have disappeared- she'd seen Dylan earlier, but her red hair was gone from the gyrating crowd. Goddamn. She really needed her.

But.

 _But_.

There was someone there she _did_ know, even if it was barely and by association. Broad shouldered and tall, with hair that was darkening from its original red, Todd Lyons' back was to her as he talked with what looked like one of Ripple's friends. Janelle, maybe, but Kristen couldn't see from here. What she saw, though, was an escape.

"Sorry!" she squeaked, even though she wasn't. "I have to…" and she didn't finish her sentence before she was sliding away, somehow free of Dempsey's grasp.

Thinking viciously about Dempsey's audacity- he'd definitely been trying to get her to like him- Kristen all but stomped over to Claire's kid brother and the ninth grade girl that seemed to be all over him.

"Hey!" she chirped. "Am I interrupting anything? I totally need saving."

Janelle frowned sympathetically. "Was it Dempsey again?"

 _Just how much did we tell these girls?_

"Yeah," Kristen answered. "I just can _not_ with him. You kiss a boy once and then…" She threw her hands in the air.

"The struggle is real," Todd teased. "Solomon's an asshole, though, so good for you not getting into that."

Kristen shrugged, ignoring Janelle's angry glance.

"He's totally with one of Skye's friends," Todd continued, blue eyes piercing on Kristen's skin. "Leslie. But he's also seeing someone named Audrey and I think he's got a thing with some girl at a college in the city…" He snorted at the look on both the girls' faces. "He talks a lot in the locker room."

"You play a sport?"

Todd nodded. "Baseball in the spring."

"Oh, so you're-"

"-on the team with Josh? Yeah. He's captain this year." Todd ran a hand through his hair. "Hopefully he'll make better calls than our last one did. I'm more of a second baseman than a first and, well… our last captain _was_ the second baseman and I'm pretty sure he blames me for our subpar year, but I never claimed to be good at first…"

"That's like when I was forced to be goalie my first two years of soccer." Kristen rolled her eyes. "I am a forward. I've never seen anyone switch so easily, except for- well, except for Derrick. He's honestly so good at every position."

Janelle giggled. "Do you mean that sexually also?"

Kristen snorted and all but shrieked, " _No_! Ew. What."

"Like you've never thought about."

"I have _nawt_ ," Kristen retorted, overwhelmed and kind of hot all over. "Derrick has always been… I mean, I had a crush on him when we were twelve, but, like-"

"Oh my god," Janelle cut in, eyes gleaming.

"No," said Kristen. "Don't even think that. That is not at all what is going on here. I don't-"

Janelle let out a loud cackle, very similar to something Kristen would have done, and replied, "I'm not, but maybe you shouldn't react like that next time. Or, like, really think about who you are. Who you like."

"I don't like Derrick." Kristen wrinkled her nose. "He's too muscular for me."

"That has never been an issue for me," Janelle cooed, running her ring-covered fingers over Todd's strong arms (you know, the ones he needed for baseball; that was the only reason Kristen was looking at them).

Todd cleared his throat, shooting Kristen a look. "Hey," he said, hoping she'd go with it, "d'you know where Claire is?"

"Yeah," Kristen lied. "She's upstairs with Massie. Do you want me to take you to her?"

"Wait, I just saw Massie in the kitch-"

"Please," Todd spoke over her. "I really need some advice on… on"- he sent Janelle a searching, significant glance, something Kristen easily saw as a facade, but Janelle did not- "on a girl I like."

It was mean, probably, but Kristen knew what it was like to be on the other end of that. To be the one giving it.

"Of course." She smiled at Janelle. "You don't mind, do you?"

"No, no, go!"

The better person in Kristen would have felt bad, but she seemed to be on vacation. With another grin and a wave, she grabbed Todd's wrist and pulled him away.

"Thank you," Todd breathed in her ear. She hadn't realized how much taller than her he was; he was _fourteen_ , for fuck's sake. "I just...I did not need that. Janelle's nice, but…"

"I get it," said Kristen. "Don't worry. You can always count on me for a good escape."

She felt his smile against her hair. _Was he that close?_ "The same way I'm a good escape for you?"

"I'd say," she murmured. "We can be each other's escapes."

Todd squeezed her hip with his left hand. Kristen could feel her heartbeat where his touch was.

"Do you still want to find Claire or do you want to grab another drink with me?"

"I never wanted to find Claire," Todd admitted. "I thought you knew that." She lifted her head to look at him- at the freckles across his face, at the bump in his nose when he broke it, at the strong eyebrows. "Your company is enough."

.

Twenty minutes ago, Skye Hamilton, in this god awful lilac two-piece monstrosity she was trying to pull off as a dress, suggested they play a kissing game. _Seven Minutes in Heaven_ , she'd said, like they were fourteen and just figuring out what it was like to make out with someone.

It was lame, it was stupid, but Alicia agreed anyway. Anything to get this party started. Not that any party Massie threw was _lame_ , necessarily, but… this wasn't exactly the party of the century or anything.

"Are you sure we should do this?" Dylan whispered in her ear.

Alicia swatted her away. "What do you think's going to happen?" she hissed back, brushing the hair out of her face. "It's just a _kissing game_."

" _Just_ a kissing game," Dylan parroted. "We could end up with _any_ one here! With Skye in charge, we don't…"

But Alicia wasn't listening to Dylan's worries. She was zeroing in on Kemp, who had just stumbled- literally- into the room. He looked so cute in his little suit, all matching with her, and his hair was growing back, and his cheeks were flushed, and this smile was playing on his mouth…

He was so _cute_.

She really, really wanted to kiss him.

"So…" Skye purred, eyeing them all with deliberation. "Who wants to go first?"

 _Me, me, me, me, me, me_. Alicia's mind was whirling, a cacophony of selfishness, of desire… but how to portray that to Skye? How to get Skye to understand what she wanted?

She shifted, straightened her leg. Pointed her toe.

She made eye contact. Lifted the corner of her mouth in that secretive smile of hers, the one that inspired gossip.

But Skye ignored it, still looking around the room, trying to find the perfect victim.

 _Me_! Alicia's mind was screaming. _Me_!

"I'm stressed," Dylan murmured.

Alicia turned her head to look at her. Glassy eyes, glossless lips… Dylan looked like they'd been partying for half the day rather than a couple of hours. If Alicia were a better friend, or, actually, been in a different position, she'd have fixed that right up. A little water, a little rifling through Massie's Glossip Girl collection, and just a tad more blush and Dylan would be picture perfect once more, but there was _just no time_.

"I want to kiss Kemp," hissed Alicia. She leaned back so her mouth was behind Dylan's ear. "I need this."

If Dylan was shocked, she didn't show it. "Is he even playing?"

"Of course he's- wait, where'd he go?"

"Uh." Dylan tucked some wayward strands of hair behind her ear. "The way he came? I dunno, I'm too busy worried about-"

"Alicia Rivera!" Skye exclaimed, picking her first victim.

The Latina blinked at the older girl, wide-eyed and alarmed. So she _had_ read her hints right. Not that it mattered anymore.

"Pass, thanks." Alicia shot up, gripping the side of the couch for support as she struggled in her heels. "I, uh, have something I need to do. Totally forgot."

"Yeah?" Missy called out. She giggled nastily. "Like what?"

"I need to make sure the bathrooms have enough toilet paper," blurted Alicia. It was totally unsexy, but it didn't matter. The only boy she wanted to impress was getting away.

"Right." Leslie Lynn snorted. "Have fun with that."

"I didn't realize Rivera was such a prude," Becca thoughtfully said aloud, tapping a nail against her bare leg. "Upsetting."

Skye clapped her hands together once. " _Anyway_ ," she announced, "that annoying instance aside, let's get started… Dylan Marvil, you're first."

" _Excuse me_?!"

Again Alicia was made uncomfortably aware of how terrible of a friend she was. She'd make up to Dylan later- there was definitely something in her closet she'd expressed interest in. Whatever it was, even if it was Alicia's favorite dress, she could have it. Skye would no doubt be ruthless and she was just leaving her there.

But _anyway_ -

Alicia shoved a sophomore out of the way, accidentally slamming her into the wall, and forced herself onto her tiptoes, looking for that messy head of hair. She was taller than all of her friends (boys not included) and was in _at least_ four inch heels, but she still couldn't see shit. What the hell.

She'd lose her courage at this rate.

"Hey, you lost?"

 _Never mind_.

Butterflies exploded in her stomach.

"Nah," she replied, nibbling on her lower lip. It was one her more appealing assets. She hoped he'd notice. "Looking for you though."

"Yeah? What for?"

Alicia smiled at him, a tiny thing. "Um." Suddenly the space was wrong, the music too loud, the people too close. "Wanna go outside with me?"

Kemp reached his hand out. Alicia took it, intertwining their fingers. "It's getting kind of loud in here," he agreed. "Do you want a refill?"

Woozy with him already, she should have said no, but her shaky fingers and anxious heart made her blurt out, "Yes." It would give her something to do with her hands, at least.

Even with all her boy "expertise," she felt like she was going to vomit. No one had ever made her feel like this before: Comfortable, safe. Had her heart racing and her mind at ease all at once. God, she wanted to kiss him.

"D'you need a jacket or something?" He handed her a drink and she sniffed it. "Sex on the Beach," he said.

" _What_?"

He chuckled, nose wrinkling. "The drink." He tapped the rim of the glass. "That's what it is."

"Right." She giggled nervously, bringing the cup to her mouth. The strong smell of liquor practically burned her nostrils. "Thanks."

"Outside still?"

"Yeah."

And then they were outside, the sounds of the party lessening the farther away they got. Alicia debated sitting near the pool, but headed towards the bench by Inez's garden instead. The flowers and herbs were dying, but Alicia found it calm there. Serene. She wiped her hands on her jumpsuit and carefully sat down. The chill clung to the undersides of her thighs.

Kemp's leg pressed against hers. His natural musk overwhelmed her, all masculine and kind of alcoholic and crisp and cool. It seemed the boys shared colognes; they all smelled like this at some point in the past two months.

"So what's up?" asked Kemp. "Are you having fun? Do you want to go home? Or, like." He cocked his head. "To Massie's room? That's where you're staying, right? Where we're all-"

"I'm fine," said Alicia. "Good party. Hasn't really started yet, though, you know? Skye's, like, trying to-"

"Oh, yeah," replied Kemp. "I ran from that real quick. I hate her kissing games. She always...tries too hard to make a mess."

Alicia nodded. "You're right. That's how I…" She swallowed her response, probably about to tell him too much about every boy she'd ever kissed, which, sadly enough, was thanks to a Skye kissing game. "You're just right," she said instead.

"And it's just… I don't need a game to help me kiss someone," he kept going, musing aloud. "It's, like, let it happen naturally, you know? Why force it and make people upset? That's all she does. She knows too much and acts on everyone's feelings just to see what would hap-"

He was going on and on and on about the...the fucking _morality_ of Spin the Bottle and Seven Minutes in Heaven, things that Alicia normally loved, thrived on, started herself to get the excitement up. This was something he did often, Kemp- he talked too much when he was drunk, about stupid things and important things. If given the opportunity, he could talk for hours.

Alicia didn't have hours.

She had right now.

"If she'd picked me and you," she started slowly, licking her lips. Kemp watched her mouth. "For the kissing game. Whatever it was. In whatever hypothetical situation we were in… if it was me and you, would you… would you kiss me?"

Kemp's dark eyes met hers, clear, focused, and intent on her face. Alicia could not read the expression there; as open as he was, he was guarded, but a thrill shot up her spine as he shifted in his seat, legs opening, head moving just _ever_ so slightly closer to her.

"You," he repeated, voice pitched low, "and me." It wasn't a question. A statement. Had he already made up his mind?

"Yeah," she replied, widening her eyes, straightening her neck. _Keep it casual, keep it casual._

Her hand was about to give her away- this wasn't casual, it wasn't just a silly question- and she grabbed her drink, taking a hefty swallow. As it traveled down her throat, it calmed her, steadied her. Kemp staring at her like that was making her even more nervous than blurting out the question had.

She wondered what was going through his mind, wondered what she should do, what she should say. It was quiet for too long, right? Should she be embarrassed? Worried? Had she read this all wrong? Would she have to flee the city and change her name come tomorrow?

"I don't really like hypotheticals," Kemp admitted finally. "How am I supposed to know what I would do in a situation that doesn't exist?"

It took Alicia's swimming mind a beat to register what he said. It wasn't a yes, or a no, or even a maybe. It was a way in.

"We could make it exist," she murmured, placing her drink on the ground and reaching out to run her thumb down his jawline. Her nail polish sparkled in the outdoor lighting.

Kemp blinked, nuzzled his head into her touch. Alicia felt her heart jump into her throat.

And then.

 _And then_ -

Alicia had a dream about this, about kissing Kemp. She'd written it off as some kind of fever thing or a reaction to the NyQuil she took when she was sick. He'd been sweet, and he'd tasted like something she couldn't remember but she'd loved it, and he had no idea what to do, how to touch her.

In this scenario…

Kemp's mouth was like fire against hers; she gasped at the contact, pressing her hand to the back of his neck, digging her fingers into the skin there. His tongue still had the remnants of champagne on it (he'd been drinking more of that than the keg he'd whined about, the one currently in Massie's garage). He licked into her, hands gripping her hips and hoisting her into his lap.

The sweeping of her arm sent his half-full cup sprawling to the lawn. Neither of them cared.

Real Kemp knew how to touch her. How to kiss her.

Seemed to know what he wanted. What she wanted.

Alicia's skin heated up, her heart pounding, pounding, pounding. She bit down on his lower lip, swallowing awkwardly.

He pulled away, licked at the skin by her ear, and she tried to ignore the voices in the back of her head, whispering about the other girls he'd obviously been with to know how to make her feel like this.

Alicia Rivera was never made to feel insecure by _a boy_ , no matter how much she liked him.

And it didn't matter that they were outside, that this was _Massie's_ house, that an entire party was going on mere yards away, that anyone could see them.

Another simple touch.

Kemp's mouth slid down her neck.

Alicia shifted closer to him, slamming her knees into the bench. She giggled, then sighed, then brought his lips back to hers, bruising him with a kiss she'd been imagining for weeks.

.

"Do you know where Massie is?" Chris yelled at Josh.

"What?"

"Do you know where-"

"What? I can't hear-"

"DO YOU KNOW WHERE MASSIE IS?"

"Oh." Josh brushed the hair out of his eyes, waving vaguely around the room. "Around. I haven't seen her in a while."

Chris gnawed on his lower lip, forcing physical pain in place of the emotional one that was ripping apart his heartstrings. _You told him he could_ , he told himself, _you lead him there. You did this. You did this. You did this._

His voice cracked when he asked, "How long is a while?"

"I dunno, maybe fifteen min-?" Josh cut himself off, squinting up at Chris. "Hey, man, you okay?"

Chris avoided eye contact, scanning the room for Massie's shiny dress, her glossy hair. He saw nothing but a room full of teenagers dressed like the adults they pretended to be, chugging full glasses of champagne and kissing people they'd regret in the morning.

"I'm fine, I just-" He coughed. "I need to find Massie."

"Massie?" came Ripple's voice. "I saw her near the kitchen with Cam."

Chris stared at the tiny little girl, taking in her kind of inappropriate dress and big hair, her overly done eyes and glimmering collarbones. It was kind of her fault this was happening to him tonight. Her party was the reason Kemp and Alicia were given the opportunity to hook up, the reason Chris currently felt like he was going to throw up. The idea of shoving her into the champagne punch flitted through his head but then he remembered that was abuse and decided otherwise.

Instead he groaned, because if she was with Cam, there was no way he could get her all to himself.

"Goddammit," he hissed, shoving a hand through his hair. He just wanted his best friend, for fuck's sake.

"Why?" Ripple asked. "What's up?"

He blinked at her. _Why was she talking to him like they were friends_? "I need her."

"For what?" she asked.

"Hey, Ripple, leave it be," Josh answered for him. Chris felt his hand on his shoulder, wanted to swat it away. "You can pull her away from him easily," he whispered to Chris. "I highly doubt they'll be doing anything in public."

He shrugged away from Josh, ignored Ripple's flustered apologies, and headed towards the kitchen to find Massie. He honestly didn't know what he was going to do if Cam was trying to hog up all her time. Maybe punch him.

She was there, like Ripple said, cheeks flushed and baby hairs unruly around her face. Cam was saying something that made her laugh, but when she caught Chris's eye, she seemed to ignore him entirely.

"Chris?" she questioned. "What's the matter?"

He opened his mouth, couldn't say anything. Couldn't force the words out, not when Cam was staring at him like he had three heads, or when the party was raging behind him, or when the images burned in his retinas of Alicia and Kemp were probably mirroring their actions out in the backyard. He swallowed roughly, wrinkling his nose, eyes watering, and shook his head instead.

Massie pursed her lips and reached her hand out. Chris met it, squeezing it like a lifeline.

"Yeah, so, do y-"

"Not now, Cam," Massie snapped though not unkindly. "I'll catch you later, okay?"

"Uh, yeah." Cam nodded. "That makes sense." He slapped his hand on Chris's back, offered Massie his best half-smirk.

"What happened?" Massie asked.

"Alicia and Kemp," Chris forced out. Saying their names together made his heart clench even more.

God, he was so stupid having a crush on Alicia Rivera. As if she'd like someone like him, perpetual fucking sad boy, when there were people like Kemp Hurley who were much more her speed.

"Oh, baby," cooed Massie, wrapping her arms around his middle. "I'm sure it's not-"

He shook his head. "I saw them," he mumbled into her hair. It smelled nice. He dug her nose into it. "Outside. Like...like…"

He didn't want to say anything else. He didn't want to accidentally let slip that he'd watched for a little _too_ long, spent too much time staring at the slope of Alicia's neck, at the way her eyes fluttered closed when she liked something, how her fingers gripped Kemp's shoulders, grasped the back of his neck, pulled him closer, couldn't get _enough_ -

Fuck, he was going to throw up.

Was it possible to be so sad it made him sick?

And to put the icing on the cake, his body rebelled against him, and he coughed around a sob, shaking around Massie's tiny body.

 _I'm not doing this, I'm not doing this, I'm not doing…_

"Come on," Massie whispered, "let's go upstairs."

"But the party."

"They don't need me," she assured him, squeezing him once. "You do."

.

Dylan wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, grimacing, as she swiftly exited the room. She shouldn't have stayed in the room after Alicia left; not only were half the male participants of Skye's kissing game upset, but Skye latched on to _Dylan_ instead and she had to spend seven minutes in a closet with freakin' Ezra Rosenberg, one of Skye and Danny's football cronies.

He was a wide receiver, she thought, big and broad-shouldered, towering over her in that too-small space, practically giving her claustrophobia. But he was nice enough, and his kissing was, like, not that bad, not that Dylan even wanted to do it in the first place…

She sighed. How did she always get into these situations?

More importantly, would she ever find someone she actually _wanted_ to kiss? Who maybe would want to date her back?

Probably not.

No one would ever want her the same way they wanted Massie or Alicia. Even Kristen and Claire, not that they weren't pretty or desirable, managed to have boys vying for their attention. Kristen had been dodging Dempsey Solomon for _weeks_ at this point. Claire had half the boys at the school wrapped around her finger because she was just _nice_.

Dylan didn't have anything going for her, just that she was funny and a real guy's friend… and that didn't make her very desirable. A lot of the time it made her intimidating.

A commotion in the next room (the study in which they'd started over) broke her out of her pity party. She recognized one of the voices- it had been forced upon her for years, even when she hadn't wanted it- and stopped, eavesdropping. Who knew if she was going to be needed?

"I'm sorry!" Derrick insisted, voice cracking. "I'm just- I'm trying to be honest. You deserve that much."

"I deserve _that_ much?" Sadie demanded. "Only that? Just honesty? I deserve so much more than that, you asshole!" There was a pause and then a stomping sound. Dylan shuffled forward, peeking in; the door was slightly ajar. "You owe me so many explanations, Derrick. Like, why did you decide to go to this party with _Dylan Marvil_? Why did you-"

"What do you have against Dylan?" he snapped. "Why'd you say her name like that? Like… like…"

"Like she's an annoying, self-righteous, full-of-herself, spoiled brat?" Sadie scoffed. "Because she _is_."

Derrick was silent. Dylan, angry in her own right but aware she couldn't barge in and defend herself, dug her French manicure into her palms. Inside, Derrick's face was red and contorted into this (oddly attractive) ugly sort of madness.

Another uncomfortable beat passed between them. Dylan held her breath.

"You don't get to say things like that in front of me," Derrick said, speech stilted and clipped. He rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt up, flashing his entire forearm of tattoos. "Dylan is- Dylan is my _best_ \- no, Dylan is my _sister_."

Sadie rolled her eyes. "You already have one of those."

"And she doesn't like you," bit out Derrick. "Don't try to tell me how to label my friendships."

"And how do you label your friendship with Massie Block?"

Dylan froze.

Derrick froze.

Sadie's mouth seemed to curl in both satisfaction and disappointment, like she knew the answer.

Dylan already had an inkling what the answer was, but didn't want to hear Derrick say it. It was obvious in their interactions that it was not a purely platonic friendship. They flirted far too much for that. Stared at each other far too much for that.

She slipped away as easily as she came, crossing her fingers that Derrick said the right thing, that he wouldn't turn into a stuttering mess. Sometimes he did that.

"Hey!" Claire chirped when Dylan emerged from the hallway. "Where've you been?"

"Oh." Dylan tossed her hair over her shoulder. "You know, here and there, out and about, kissing random football players in closets… you know, the usual."

"Ew." Claire wrinkled her nose. "Who?"

"Doesn't matter." Dylan threw her hand as casually as she could, acting light as a feather. Her mouth still has a sour taste in it, her tongue felt heavy. She hadn't wanted to do that, to kiss him, so why had she? "Care to take a shot with me?"

"If she says no, I'll say yes." Cam slung his arm over her shoulder. Dylan had forgotten how touchy he got when he was drunk. "I'll also say yes if she says yes. And she should. As my unofficial date."

Claire giggled.

Dylan quirked an eyebrow but said nothing. About that reaction, at least. "Lead me to the messiah," she instructed Cam.

He whipped out three tiny plastic containers. "Someone made pineapple upside down cake Jell-O shots for Ripple."

Dylan let out a low whistle. "Someone must really like Ripple, then."

"Or making over-the-top drinks," suggested Claire, swiping hers. "Look: There's a legit cherry in this."

"To…" Cam deliberated, unconsciously pulling his lip between his teeth. Their shots were pressed together between them, and Claire's cloudy gaze was focused on Cam's mouth. "To our new old friendships."

There was this warmth spreading through Dylan's entire body- from her head to her toes, she felt so happy, and it wasn't all from the large amounts of alcohol she'd already consumed. It felt nice to be friends with the boys again. Felt nice for them to be happy they were hanging out with them again, too. They had ended things so terribly it had never seemed like they'd make it past it. Dylan had gotten used to the fact that she'd never speak to these guys again by the time they graduated.

But then her sisters interfered.

Derrick's siblings interfered.

Massie and Alicia stumbled into Kemp's house on a Saturday night.

She might have freaked out in the moment, upset over things from years past, but honestly… honestly she was happy they'd done it.

"To our new old friendships," she repeated, and then she downed the shot. She could hardly taste the alcohol. That was dangerous.

"I swiped this," Derrick snapped, loosening the tie at this neck and unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt with an angry jerk of his hand. "I need help drinking it, though, so- Cam, you free?"

Dylan frowned. "What am I, chopped liver?"

Derrick met her gaze, angry and tipsy and the tiniest bit sad and overwhelmed. "Fine," he permitted, "get the whole gang together. I don't care."

"The whole gang," Claire repeated, shooting him a dubious look, mouth curling around the edges. "We call ourselves that now?"

He leveled her his best glare, nasty and annoyed. "Don't start, Claire. Your snark is only cute when I'm in a good mood."

"Snark?" she questioned, like she wasn't aware how annoying she could be. Dylan rolled her eyes as discretely as she could; she loved Claire but that girl stirred the pot far too much. And she had a feeling it was all a show tonight, if the way she was looking at Cam was any indication.

"For fuck's sake," muttered Derrick. "Fish, you coming? Marv, you can, too, but you're on probation, Lyons."

Claire snorted but followed anyway.

Seven minutes later, everyone but Massie and Chris were accounted for.

Forty minutes after that, the bottle was empty.

Ten after that, all hell broke loose.


	13. Human

**a/n** : apologies for the lateness. like i said, i've been going through some stuff and i haven't really felt 100%. still don't, but i owe you guys something at least, so here it is. on the shorter side, but a lot happens. i'd say this is the turning point of the story, but i'm not sure yet. regardless, the drama is high. the kids make bad decisions.

let me know what you think, how you feel, what you'd like to see. i have vague ideas but sometimes i need a little push from y'all.

* * *

 _But I'm only human  
_ _And I bleed when I fall down  
_ _I'm only human  
_ _And I crash and I break down  
_ _Your words in my head, knives in my heart  
_ _You build me up and then I fall apart  
_ _'Cause I'm only human, yeah  
_ \- "Human," Christina Perri

* * *

 **AFTER**

* * *

Massie burrowed her chin in her scarf, picking at the loose threads to keep her fingers from checking her phone for the fiftieth time that morning. That annoying Drake song was blaring from the car radio, not Hayley Kiyoko's _Curious_ like she'd asked, but, like, whatever.

"If you unlock your phone one more time, I'm gonna throw it out the window."

"Okay, but, like, your friends aren't ignoring you for no reason," Massie snapped back. "Are they?"

Chris sighed deeply. "They're probably not ignoring you," he replied steadily. "They're probably busy."

"You said 'probably' too many times." She glanced out the window again. "The last time we didn't all carpool together was in seventh grade when we couldn't agree on if we liked Claire or not."

"If it helps, I don't like Claire."

"You're mean," said Massie.

Chris snorted. "Am I not good enough company?" he asked instead, not bothering to elaborate, not bothering to tell Massie if he was serious or not. "Because you can walk the rest of the way."

"Of course you're good enough company," Massie exclaimed, forcing herself to shove her phone in her tote bag. "You're the best company! It's just - even when we're not texting, we're Snapchatting, or we're in each other's Instagram DMs - "

" - do you send each other memes?"

"Of course." Massie gnawed on her lower lip, stressed over this. Stressed over how her stress was going to make her break out. "Did I do something? I don't remember doing something."

"Weeeeell," Chris began, flicking on his blinker. The noise made Massie's head hurt. "I haven't talked to Kemp since the party. He's been hungover ever since. Probably still is." He reached his hand out, gripped Massie's knee, squeezed. "We missed a really interesting drinking extravaganza; they're probably all still nauseous."

"You said probably again," Massie pointed out. She flipped his hand over, slid her fingers between his. "And honestly from what they told us about it, I'm glad we missed it."

"Yeah." Chris sniffed. "Me fucking crying and watching _The Office_ with the subtitles on because we couldn't hear shit was infinitely better."

Massie smiled slightly, running her thumb over his knuckles. "At least you're not an ugly crier."

"Thank god for that," he agreed.

She pinched the skin between his thumb at index finger, not liking his tone. "Are you feeling any better?"

"I ignored Alicia's Snapchat of her in the dog filter even when we know that's my favorite one and I lived at your house this entire weekend, so." Chris swallowed. "I'd say no."

.

Pressed against the side of BOCD, brick cold against her palms, Dylan found herself, once again, in a position of spying. Eavesdropping.

This time, though, she was technically hiding, not trying to listen in, so if anyone caught her, that was what she would tell them.

Her phone, purposely set to Do Not Disturb so she wouldn't know when she received a text, burned a hole in her pocket. She knew there was a message there - multiple, really, since this was Massie and Massie hated being ignored - but she wouldn't check it. _Couldn't_ check it, not when her attention was zeroing in on the way Chris Plovert helped Massie out of his car.

The touch on the small of her back.

The careless way he tossed her tote over his shoulder.

The jacket she was wearing: _His_ , the one he'd worn to her house Saturday night.

The way their fingers intertwined so easily together.

It made her nauseous, the sight of them. The lies they'd fed her, fed _them_ , their _friends_ , made her feel sicker. Massie's snicker filled her ears, Chris's teasing, bemused grin in her mind's eye. _Not dating_ , they'd said. _Not interested at all_ , they'd insisted, over and over.

She'd been so stupid to believe them.

.

 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : hey

 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : can we talk?

 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : are you there

 _ **Kemp Hurley**_ : hey yeah sorry  
 _ **Kemp Hurley**_ : i will thoroughly apologize for A) embarrassing you, B) making a fool out of myself, C) blacking out, D) all of the above  
 _ **Kemp Hurley**_ : but its gonna have to wait until after i stop puking ok

Alicia spared another look at her pathetic exchange with Kemp and heaved a heavy sigh, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. It shouldn't have surprised her. Shouldn't have affected her in any way after reading these messages for what had to be the four hundredth time since she received them yesterday.

Blacked out.

He'd _blacked out_.

She bit down hard on her lip, forcing pain to take the place of the overwhelming urge to cry.

.

Kristen laid on the cold, wet field, legs aching and lungs gasping for air.

Soccer practice went as it normally did in the mornings: Concerningly terrible. The only upside was that they could blame the early hour for all the failed plays and missed saves.

But this time, Kristen couldn't blame _just_ the grog she felt at five AM for her mishaps. The ghost of his mouth on hers, the phantom touch of his hands on her hips, roughly tugging her closer to him… It was _that_ she blamed her poor performance on. It wasn't every day a girl got kissed like that.

.

Looking between both pictures, Claire didn't know which one infuriated her more. Didn't know which one caused the rolling in her stomach. She swallowed to keep the nausea at bay and typed back a quick reply.

 _ **To: BOCDSecrets  
From: lyonsroar  
**_ _yeah i did think they were my friends. no i don't think this means you're mine right now i don't know you. i dont even know why you are asking my permission to post these in the first place when you've never cared once before but sure, do whatever you want. thanks for showing me them_

Immediately after:

 _ **To: lyonsroar  
From: BOCDSecrets**_ _  
oh honey you do know me… and listen, i think we can be the best of friends ;)_

.

Josh slid into his usual seat, tray clattering to the table. His large helping of creamed corn sloshed into his grilled chicken. Cam's hand shot out to keep his apple from rolling to the ground. Josh hardly bothered thanking him, making deliberate, harsh eye contact with Derrick when he demanded, "Why are we here?"

Here being their old table.

Here being table two, not eighteen, halfway across the room from the Pretty Committee. From their _friends_.

Cam's thoughtful gaze slid over to his best friend. He chewed on his bread, vicious bites between gleaming teeth.

"Do you really want to be a part of that?" Derrick asked in reply, waving a hand. He sounded tired, looked miserable beneath the mask he crafted for school, beneath the popularity and cockiness. "Dyl told me they haven't really talked since the party," he continued, "and none of them are speaking to B- Massie-"

Josh whipped around, scrutinizing the table. Dylan's high pony was the first thing he saw, curly and sleek, nestled between Alicia's glossy, straight hair and Claire's wavy half updo. Kristen and Massie were nowhere to be seen.

"Why aren't they talking to Massie?" he wondered aloud. "She was MIA for most of the party."

Cam snorted meanly, still devouring his food like some homicidal maniac.

Kemp groaned, forehead pressed to the table. His overly greasy food was untouched.

"And she's MIA now," Derrick returned. "So is Chris."

"Probably should get used to it," sniped Cam, which was weird. Or not. Josh couldn't remember. "We can all agree they're fucking, right?"

Derrick stiffened. Josh chewed his lower lip. Kemp turned his head, gazing at Cam curiously.

"Right?" Cam directed at Kemp, the one person who knew Chris the most. The best.

"Dunno," the dark-skinned boy replied, forcing himself up on his elbows. "Why's it matter anyway? Like." He swallowed, looking pained and nauseous. "Why do you sound so annoyed by it?"

"It's just annoying, isn't it?" The words were like honey off Cam's tongue. They sounded sweet and concerning and slipped past Derrick's radar. Josh, though… Josh cocked his head and looked at him. _Really_ looked at him. "They disappeared, didn't show up all weekend, came to school together, and now… They've been lying this whole time and it's annoying."

"Does it concern you, though?" Kemp shot back. "Does anything Massie or Chris do affect you in any way?"

"I mean, yeah?" Cam quirked an eyebrow. "They're my friends. They're _our_ friends, and-"

Whatever he was about to say was interrupted by the squeak of a chair being pulled out, of Chris's chair being pulled out. They lifted their heads as one, Derrick squinting, Cam pressing his mouth into a tight line. Kemp muttered something under his breath- _what the fuck_ , probably- as Skye Hamilton dropped herself, as graceful as the ballerina she was, into the empty seat next to their soccer captain. Every emotion that had been easily readable on Derrick's face was wiped clean, even to his friends, and he shifted to regard the senior in a cool, calculating kind of way.

(It reminded Josh of the way Massie looked at people she disliked.)

"Hey, guys," she purred.

Josh shoved a too-large piece of chicken between his teeth to disguise the disgust pulling at his mouth. Kemp hid his head in his arms again. Only Derrick and Cam gave Skye any attention, which was probably what she wanted anyway.

"Hey," said Derrick, detached, monotone.

Cam offered up one of those smarmy half-smiles of his. It made him look all the more like Harris and Skye ate it up every time.

Josh chewed, blinking at her.

"Where's the other one?" she asked innocently, as if she didn't know that's what they were just talking about, as if they weren't debating what everyone else in the school was. "Why are you here… not there?"

No one answered her. She slid her chair closer to Derrick, her long blonde hair brushing against his arm. He gritted his teeth, but didn't move.

"Trouble in paradise?" she sing-songed, voice low and seductive. Her gaze raked over all of them - too long on Derrick, taking in his every perfection, because Derrick was, in fact, the perfect specimen, or so Josh heard through the halls - before settling on Kemp's dark head, something flashing in her eyes. "Odd," she mused, directly at him, though he didn't move, "that Kemp isn't with Alicia now. Not everything you dreamed it be?"

Gruffly, in the cage of his arms, Kemp snapped, "What the fuck do you want, Hamilton?"

"You make out with your dream girl and then ignore her at school?" Skye simpered, batting her lashes at Josh, who had to pull back his leg before he kicked her in the shin. "I overhear a lot of things, you know. Alicia mentioned it in-"

" _What_." Kemp lifted his head, brown eyes swimming in all these different emotions.

Derrick cleared his throat and looked away.

"Oh!" Skye giggled, covering her mouth. "You don't know. You don't _remember_."

"Hamilton, I swear to God - "

Cam slapped the fork out of Kemp's grip, letting it tumble to the floor. Better to not arm him.

But Skye wasn't afraid of the murderous look on his face. She leaned in, shining with amusement, and brushed a finger along the knuckles of the hand that had once held the utensil Kemp wouldn't have hesitated to shove in her throat. "You hooked up with Alicia, darling," she murmured, "and you _don't remember_."

"I did _what_ ," he choked out, looking stunned, looking scared, looking - looking right at Josh.

The latter felt his face heat up and he dropped his eyes to look at the food he'd destroyed in an effort not to contribute to the conversation. He felt Skye look at him, felt Cam's curiosity, felt Derrick's foot as he accidentally hit his.

"Josh," Kemp said frantically, "I didn't - "

He nodded, still looking at his plate.

Skye's nasty chuckle filled the uncomfortable silence. "This is so good," she said, voice too loud, "and we all know Chris is, like, _in love_ with her. I mean, if we all didn't, Kemp sure did, and Kemp - well, you - "

"I am going to give you five seconds to get out of my sight," Kemp snarled, the color returning to his cheeks.

She didn't move, smiling at him. "I just think that's probably why Chris isn't sitting with you."

"Five - "

"Because you broke his trust - "

" - four - "

" - and told him you didn't like her like that - "

" - how do you know what he's told Chris?"

" - three - "

" - but you made out with her anyway! Multiple ti - "

" - _TWO_ \- "

" - must be really easy for you to be a bad friend - "

" - IF YOU DO NOT GET OUT OF MY FACE RIGHT NOW, I WILL - "

Derrick stood abruptly, grabbed Skye by the collar of her shirt, and heaved her up. "Time to go back to your friends, Ham."

"Are you not my friend, Derrick?" she murmured, pressing her hand against his chest.

"No," he snapped, shaking her away.

She cocked her head to the side, smirking, as he deposited her at her own table. "Do you want to be?"

He regarded her stoically, jaw taut, eyes blazing, and said, "I don't want anything to do with you."

Back at the table, Kemp caught Alicia's eye, and then, in a stunning turn of events, _he_ was the one who raced out of the room.

The cafeteria was silent one moment and exploding with conversation the next, rumors flying this way and that. Dylan reached out to touch Alicia's back, hand resting as comfortingly as possible, leaning over to whisper in her ear.

So much was going on - from Skye and Derrick's silent standoff to Kemp's dramatic exit to the covert glances and whispered conversations three fifths of the Pretty Committee were having - that no one noticed when Josh slipped out right after Kemp.

.

"That's weird," noted Claire, brows furrowed as she watched the scene unfold over at the other table. "Kemp's allowing Derrick to fight his battles?"

She noticed that when Cam accidentally caught her eye he looked away, pretending as if he didn't. Normally this would, like, set fire to her heart or something equally as lovestruck, having her think that _meant_ something, but… it clearly didn't. So she pursed her lips and kept looking.

"He's still hungover," Alicia mumbled, "or else he would've probably killed her."

"Wonder what they were talking about," mused Dylan, petting Alicia's hair.

"Whatever it was Skye got some pleasure out of it; look at her."

They did. She was still looking at Derrick, who had crafted his face into this terrifying sort of thing, the same one everyone saw on the soccer field. She seemed to revel in it, in his annoyance, his anger. She also seemed to be unable to stop touching him in some way, even though he shook her off every time. _What was he doing?_ Just sit back down.

"I should go talk to him," Alicia decided abruptly.

Dylan grimaced. "I don't think now is the best time for - "

"When is there a better time?" she snapped back. "He's _alone_ " - he wasn't, but Claire wasn't going to tell her that - "everyone else is paying attention to whatever Derrick is doing _aaaaand_ most of the school is right here so there will be no one to interrupt."

Dylan shrugged her shoulders. "Sure," she said, "but hungover Kemp is really cranky, just remember - "

" - I know what hungover Kemp is like," Alicia hissed. "I think I'm going to throw up."

"Maybe you shouldn't go then," Claire offered, tearing her gaze away from the boys. Her phone, tucked into her pocket, seemed to vibrate but that was impossible; everyone she knew was here. It was just humming with the secrets she now knew, waiting for her to do something about them.

Alicia didn't respond, merely flipped her long, thick mane over her shoulder, sending a wave of jasmine their way, and stalked out of the cafeteria.

.

A hand wrapped around her wrist, tugging her back.

"You don't want to go in there," he said, "too much drama."

Kristen quirked an eyebrow, meeting Todd's eyes. His touch was hot against her skin and she knew she should make him let go, but she didn't. "Drama?" she parroted easily, sliding her tongue over her lower lip to keep herself from counting the freckles on his cheeks.

It didn't stop her at all, and she was at eleven when he finally spoke again.

"Your friends are split up, or so I've heard." Todd shot her a grin, like he knew what she was distracted by, and loosened his grip on her arm. "Nate texted me. I was out here waiting for you."

Her heart jumped. "Waiting for me?"

"Yeah," he mumbled, endearing and awkward, but yet self-assured. So very different from his sister, who constantly needed attention and reassurance. "I hope you don't mind."

(" _I'm going to kiss you," he breathed against her mouth, lips already brushing hers as he spoke. "I hope you don't mind."_ )

Kristen shivered, remembering, and threw Todd one of her own dazzling smiles. He blinked in response, eyes glittering. "Thoughtful of you," she said. Some small part of her brain became aware of how much she was acting like Alicia: aloof, playful in a combative way. She wondered what that said about her, that she was channeling her inner Alicia to flirt with Claire's kid brother.

"I like to think I'm very thoughtful," agreed Todd. "Are you hungry? We can go eat somewhere else. That is, uh, if you - "

"Yeah," Kristen cut in, probably too forceful. "I drove today, so I have my car, if you - "

The cafeteria doors flew open. Todd immediately let go of Kristen's hand.

Kristen's felt cold without the feel of his pulse against her the bone of her wrist, lonely in the way she felt in the dead of night when she was up late - up without anyone else - working tirelessly on AP schoolwork and college essays and applications that didn't need her attention, not yet. She ran that very same hand over her hair, held back by a simple black headband, curling her fingers into the nape of her neck.

Kemp shot out of the caf, not even seeing them, reeking of distress, and moments later, Josh followed, albeit at a slower pace.

"Hey, guys," the latter greeted, "which direction did he go in?"

Todd pointed towards the Foreign Languages hallway. Josh disappeared down it without another word.

"What's…?"

But Kristen's question was not finished for another person barreled out of the lunchroom. Another person they knew.

Once again, Todd gestured to the Foreign Languages hallway, not even bothering to wait for Alicia's question. She smiled tightly at him, pretty face pinched with anxiety, and click-clacked away on her expensive shoes.

"So," Todd began, waiting a moment or two for the doors to open. They remained shut. "About lunch."

This time, Kristen grabbed his hand and tugged him along. His presence at her back made her cheeks heat up, recalling the way they'd spent the entirety of Ripple's birthday party - never out of each other's sight, never apart. She had no idea what any of this meant, no idea what she was even doing, what she was _feeling_. One second Todd was Claire's brother - a cute brother, nevertheless; puberty had done him good - and the next she was daydreaming about their kiss during soccer practice, daydreaming about their _next_ kiss. If there would be one.

The second they got into her car, this, like, mediocre BMW that hardly fit in with the others in the lot, her inner turmoil ceased to exist.

It was easy to forget that Todd was a _boy_ , that Todd… that he probably had his own experiences in the way the rest of them did. All because he was a younger brother, used to be this snot-nosed thing they teased and pranked and pulled all sorts of shit on. But Todd… Todd was just like Derrick, and Cam, and the rest of them, and he knew how to read situations, knew how to _take_ -

His palms pressed against her cheeks, turning her head, his mouth hot against hers, tongue slipping between her lips with such an effortless grace…

Kristen wondered how he learned to kiss like this. Wondered who he'd been with that had given him this experience. Wondered why she cared so much.

.

 _ **Kemp Hurley**_ : dude dude dude  
 _ **Kemp Hurley**_ : i need u wehre are u  
 _ **Chris Plovert**_ : student council office w massie  
 _ **Kemp Hurley**_ : im coming pls ahve a bucket ready im going to throw up  
 _ **Kemp Hurley**_ : and cry probably but mass wont care right?

.

"-the theme suggestions are lackluster this year," Massie was saying. Her scarf was tucked under Chris's head as he laid on one of the many leather couches the school board provided its "best" students. Student Council was an important part of BOCD, more so than the athletics department or the hardworking students that kept the school in the top percentile. Those on Student Council made it far and wide in their careers- Presidents, CEOs, politicians- all because they knew how to problem solve. How to lead, control.

It didn't make much sense given that the students of BOCD always made it where they wanted. Where they strived to. Money and connections made it happen much more so than good grades, built résumés, and back-to-back championship trophies did.

"Like, if Olivia Ryan suggests "Snowglobe" one more time, I will scream." Massie scratched that one out, a little bit more viciously than she should have, probably.

Chris snorted. "Are you two still not over whatever feud you've got going on?"

"No," Massie said, and that should have been the end of that, but for some reason she kept going. "She's always been against me, probably because of some seventh grade shenanigans-"

"-seventh grade was fuckin' wild, I'll give you that," Chris murmured in assent, eyes closed.

"-but it most likely has more to do with me dating her brother freshman year."

A strangled cough escaped Chris, forcing him out of his cozy position. "You-" He choked, startled. "You _dated_ Andy Ryan? Wasn't he, like-"

"-the star wide receiver of the football team? Currently starting at Ohio State and probably going to get drafted by an NFL team within the next year? Yes." She tapped her pen against the paper before her. "I think I like this "Fire and Ice" theme," she mused. "Not only can the color scheme be sexy reds and oranges and cold blues and whites, but we can also twist into something out of _Game of Thrones_ , which would go over well with half the student body."

But Chris was still staring at her, wide-eyed, this news shaking him to his very core.

She looked up. "What? Did you not know that about me? It wasn't like it was some big secret. Everyone loved talking about it. I'm pretty sure there were even rumors speculating that I'd cheated on Derrick with him, which… everyone believed, now that I think about it."

"We- me and the boys, I mean- really avoided focusing on anything you girls did," Chris replied, though he sounded unsure of it.

"Whatever." Massie waved this off. "Doesn't matter. It's in the past. Andy was nice and people didn't like that the star of our team was, you know, involved with a freshman cheerleader when he could've been with more popular, older girls, but like… I won, like I usually do, so I care very little." She let out a little breath. "I just thought you knew about that."

Chris offered her a sheepish smile. "Uh… I spent most of freshman year… not sober, so…"

"W _oooo_ w, Mr. Class President," teased Massie. "Surprised you got away with it."

"If you haven't noticed," replied Chris, a gleam in his eye, in his grin, "I get away with a lot of things."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Massie rolled her eyes. "I get away with nothing, but you could murder a student in front of Burns and every other higher up and they would probably give you a slap on the wrist."

"It pays to be beautiful."

Massie tossed a copy of the Student Handbook, which had been laying by her right elbow, at his face.

His laughter was pretty and cleansing, but it died as the door swung open and Kemp skidded inside.

"Oh," Chris said, taking him in, "you weren't kidding."

Kemp's cheeks were ruddy, his hair a mess- probably from the amount of times his shaking hands ran through it- and he looked like he was about to vomit, cry, or scream at the drop of a hat.

Massie stood, circling around the table to look at him, reaching out to take his face in her palms. "What's wrong?" she asked, and she never sounded more maternal in her life.

Kemp must have realized this, somewhere in the jumble that was his thoughts and feelings, for he blinked at her. Blinked and blinked and blinked. "I did something," he breathed, and Chris wanted to cover his ears, close his eyes, _leave_ instead of listen to Kemp sound so broken, so unlike him. "Something bad. Something I shouldn't have done."

"What are you talking about?" Chris's voice was harsh.

Massie shushed him, even as he stepped closer to them. "Kemp," she murmured. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm sorry," he croaked, looking past her, meeting Chris's gaze. _Best friend, best friend, best friend_. "I didn't… I didn't mean to. I don't remember. I don't remember even wanting to, or what it was like, or if-" He broke off, swallowing. "Skye… she told me just before, but. You all knew, didn't you? And you didn't tell me, and I - Chris, you can't hate me."

"What do you mean _I didn't mean to_?" Chris questioned. Massie slapped at his leg, not liking his tone. "You don't- Kemp, did you-"

"I blacked out," he blurted. "The last thing I remember is avoiding one of Skye's stupid kissing games. I didn't lie when I said I wasn't interested in her." This was directed towards Chris. "I would never lie to you about that. About anything. I don't… I don't like her. Not like that. Even though everyone thinks I do, thinks I should."

He looked conflicted, like he was battling himself, and his fingers curled around Massie's, squeezing too tight. She said nothing, just shifted her hand so he had easier access.

"She likes you," Chris told him. "You've never deterred her."

"But I've never told her I liked her, either," Kemp argued. "It's not my fault she's so possessive. Or that she reads into things I do for her too much. I'll… I'll stay away from her so she gets the message, but-"

"She'd hate that, don't do it," Chris cut in.

"I have to do _something_ ," Kemp insisted. "She can't-"

Massie's voice was nothing more than a trill when she said, "She's possessive of both of you, not just Kemp." Their gazes slid to her, and she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "That's why she's not talking to me. She thinks me and Chris are boning and she hates it."

"Everyone is thinking that," Kemp said. "Cam got really into it. It was annoying. I would've expected that from Derrick, but he didn't say anything, not really."

Chris flicked Massie's shoulder. "It would be an honor and a privilege to bone Massie, but I am most certainly not."

"You're playing into the rumors though," Kemp pointed out. "By hiding out like this."

"We're not hiding out," Massie said. "We're doing Student Council work. I'm narrowing down the themes for Winter Formal."

"October isn't even over."

"I'm going to have to fight the entire council on this, so better to get started early-"

"-you're just hiding from everyone else," Kemp interrupted in a snap. "Why?"

"I'm _not_ hiding from any-"

"Hey, just so you know, Alicia is, like, right behind me, and I'm pretty sure she's going to want to talk to you, Kemp," Josh greeted breathlessly, slamming the door behind him.

Chris, Massie, and Kemp turned to blink at him.

"Hey," the former said.

"I can't do this right now," the latter all but slurred, vowels and consonants blending together in his panic.

Massie was the only one with a level head. "I'll handle it," she decided, striding past them.

There was a beat of surprised silence and then Josh said to Kemp, "I brought you this water bottle."

Kemp's reply was soft. "Thanks."

* * *

 **THEN**

* * *

" _You don't get to say things like that in front of me," Derrick said, speech stilted and clipped. He rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt up, flashing his entire forearm of tattoos. "Dylan is- Dylan is my_ best _\- no, Dylan is my_ sister _."_

 _Sadie rolled her eyes. "You already have one of those."_

" _And she doesn't like you," bit out Derrick. "Don't try to tell me how to label my friendships."_

 _Sadie's gaze flicked to the crown inked on his arm. "And how do you label your friendship with Massie Block?"_

 _Derrick froze._

 _Sadie's mouth seemed to curl in both satisfaction and disappointment, like she knew the answer._

 _Something inside of him seemed to break. He didn't have an answer. Well, he did, but…_

 _She flashed through his mind even though he didn't want her to, even though he was looking right at Sadie, his girlfriend, someone he really, really liked…_

 _Maybe "really, really" was too much. Was wrong._

 _He saw her eyes, amber, with all those flecks of other colors, beautiful and mischievous and cunning and sparkling. He saw her face, her smile, the way her hair caught in the sunlight, in the moonlight. The freckles splayed across her cheeks like careless constellations. The way she looked at him when she thought he wasn't looking, but he was always looking. Always aware…_

" _I'm in love with her," he blurted._

 _Sadie blinked like she wasn't expecting it, but, some part of him whispered, some nasty hidden area of his heart, what was she expecting when she asked that in the first place?_

 _Her face contorted, chest rising and falling while she fought to keep herself in check. "You're in love with her," she repeated blankly, tearing her fingers through her meticulously curled hair. "Even after everything she's done to you? Even though she's a bitch, and a liar, and a manipulative little shit-"_

" _Hey, don't-"_

" _-even though she's fucking your best friend?"_

 _Derrick scoffed. "They're just friends, she and Chris," he shot back. "Everyone needs to stop-"_

" _-oh, honey." Sadie giggled meanly and part of him wondered if she knew just how similar she could be to Massie, whom she claimed to despise. "I'm not talking about Plovert."_

* * *

 **LATER**

* * *

" _Is it true?" Derrick asked, not bothering to greet Josh, sidling up to him at his locker like a man on a mission._

" _Is what true?"_

" _Massie and Cam." He felt nauseous just putting their names together. "Are they… they, like, together?"_

 _Josh cocked his head to the side. "Uh, not right now. I don't think they have any classes together besides the one I am also in, which we had an hour ag-"_

" _That isn't what I meant." Derrick sniffed, trying to calm his boiling blood. "Are they together, as in, I dunno, sleeping together, or, like, hooking up? You know, sexually." His voice cracked at the word._

" _Oh." And the wary way in which Josh considered him was all the answer he needed._

* * *

 **NOW**

* * *

 _ **BOCDSecrets**_ posted a new photo  
 _I've given you the rest of the weekend to gain back your sensibilities, so now that we are all done being hungover and regretful (or some of us are… poor_ _ **kemphurley**_ _please drink some more Gatorade), it's time to dish. While most of you were wondering if_ _ **cplov47**_ _and_ _ **mmmblock**_ _were together, you probably missed this one…_ _ **cfish**_ _, any last words? #Cassie  
_ **carandolph** _omg  
_ **ripplebax** _a lot of things make sense now_ _ **j_nelly melllllllllllllldx3 esteflopez  
**_ **mcambridge** _ngl this is pretty hot  
_ **becbrie** _ **mcambridge**_ _baby fish is hot thats why_

.

 **Alicia Rivera  
** Missed Call (3)

 _ **Dylan Marvil**_ : where are you?

 **Cam Fisher**  
Missed Call (10)

 _ **Sammi Harrington**_ : Little bro, you need to answer Dylan. She's really worried. I don't know why, but just… don't hide yourself like you normally do when you're upset, okay? Call me later.

 _ **Patrick Harrington**_ : turns out Harris knew about this so i'm going to kick his ass until next tuesday he gives shit advice

 _ **Cam Fisher**_ : dude please talk to me  
 _ **Cam Fisher**_ : I wanted to tell you but you wouldnt listen to me  
 _ **Cam Fisher**_ : this is why you've been such a dick to me since the party right?

 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : I know where you are  
 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : Do not move, I'm coming

.

It was weird how, even though he was so big now, taller, more muscled, he could still force himself into the smallest spaces. He found comfort in them, in hiding away, in squishing both himself and his problems into tiny, tiny things until eventually they seemed as small as he wished them to be.

It was a problem he had, one that his family was concerned about. Sammi already mentioned that he needed more outlets, that he needed people to talk to, but he refused to talk to her, to talk to Patrick, to his mom. His dad hated him for picking soccer over football and he wouldn't go to a therapist even if they paid him. So that left himself and small places, winding himself up until he was nothing. Until all that was left of him was cockiness, self-righteousness, and anger. Anger he kept hidden deep in his belly.

But in the safety of this playground, in this closed slide, he could be something other than that.

Maybe it was the tight squeeze or maybe it was the way his heart was constricting in his chest, but he couldn't breathe. _In, in, in, in, in, in_ \- gasps, gasps, gasps- _out, out, out, out, out, out_. He clawed at his neck, tore at the collar of his shirt, tried to wrestle proper breathing out of him. All he got was hyperventilation.

Wind whistled outside his hideout. He could hear the laughter of the kids getting dismissed from elementary school. Some of them ran towards him, towards the playground, but none of them stayed. Not when their parents or their nannies needed to get them home for dinner.

A strangled sob escaped him and he choked on it, half-caught in the back of his throat. He'd thought, years ago, he knew what heartbreak felt like, thought it was the sight of Massie walking away when he knew deep down there was still so much more they could say, _he_ could say. But he was wrong.

Heartbreak was loving her from the sidelines and not doing anything about it.

Heartbreak was knowing he'd put his heart on the line two weeks ago and she'd been banging his best friend.

Heartbreak was this: feet planted against the plastic of this slide, keeping him from moving an inch, _crying_ over a girl he could never escape.

Heartbreak was Alicia Rivera tugging him by the calf and curling herself around him while he whimpered and weeped and felt his sadness harden into something he understood better.

Heartbreak was taking her face in his hands and kissing her because he knew it would piss people off, because he knew, deep down, she felt the same way he did.


	14. Issues

**a/n** : two updates in one week? who am i? maybe a week with shorter hours and no kids at work was what i needed to get back into it. i've done some half-assed planning, so i know what i want to happen in the next couple of chapters... you'll get what you want (sort of). a massie/alicia confrontation, a cam/derrick confrontation, kemp and plovert actually talking, a PC powwow, and also another messy party...

jsyk: you've got alicia+derrick x2, massie, kemp+josh, and claire in this chap.

anyway, i'm going to finish this bottle of wine, so enjoy, my friends, and happy friday! xoxox

* * *

' _Cause I got issues  
But you got 'em too  
So give 'em all to me  
And I'll give mine to you  
_\- "Issues," Julia Michaels

.

Derrick felt this overwhelming sense of _self_ slam back into him as he licked Alicia's raspberry flavored gloss from her mouth and he all but shoved her away from him, scrambling back up the slide and into his safe haven.

 _Wrong girl, wrong girl, wrong girl_ —

His voice was choked and cracking: "I'm so sorry, I didn't… I didn't even _ask_ , I just—"

Hers was considerate and sweet: "It's okay, I get it, you just… now I get what the hype's all about." Her joke fell flat, Derrick not even bothering to acknowledge it.

"Can you just—can you go?" he begged, pulling his lower lip between his teeth and gnawing on it like a dog would a bone. His heart rate was gaining speed, his hands clammy, and he had yet another thing to apologize for when it all came down to it.

"No," said Alicia, and she followed suit, climbing up the slide after him.

They both definitely did not fit in here; it was too warm, too cramped, but he wasn't going to move. And if he didn't move, she wouldn't move, so they were stuck inside this thing, hair becoming staticy and clinging to the plastic.

"Let's talk about it," she suggested.

"What is there to talk about?" he questioned coolly.

Alicia quirked a brow. "You're forgetting that I _know_ you, D," she shot back. "There's plenty to talk about, but I won't make you start from the beginning if you don't want to."

"You don't know me, not anymore," he retorted, wrinkling his nose. Even if Alicia had always latched on to Kemp, she'd been each guy's confidant at one point. There had just been something about her that made them trust her, which, in retrospect, probably wasn't a good idea, but she had never once told anyone their secrets. "And there really isn't anything to talk about, honest."

(And before there was Dylan, Alicia had been Derrick's best friend, even when he wasn't hers.)

"Right," she agreed skeptically, "because Big Man On Campus Derrick Harrington always spends his Monday afternoons crying in slides."

"Yep," he replied, acid dripping from the word. _Go away_ , he wanted to yell.

"Come on, there's something wrong, I know there is. You've never once been attracted to me—"

"—I've been attracted to you plenty of times—"

"—you know what I mean." She whacked his bicep. "Talk to me, please," she implored. "Don't let this build up inside you."

He blinked at her, mouth pressed into a thin line.

"Well, if you won't talk, then I will," she decided, fidgeting into a better position. Derrick watched her with slight amusement as she squeaked, trying to keep herself in that tunnel. "I am an expert information gatherer, so from what I know… this is about Massie. Breathe if I'm correct."

With one swift push of his leg, she'd tumble out of the slide. He was really debating it.

"And I also know this is about Cam, because that's what BOCDSecrets posted," she continued, "and you're upset about this, don't deny it, I found you _crying_." He bared his teeth, warning her to mock him, but she didn't. "And I also know this is about how you feel about Massie, because you told me about it on Saturday."

"Okay, you can… what?"

"You don't remember?" She sounded bitter, annoyed, at the thought.

 _Derrick grabbed for Alicia, tugging her by the back of her jumpsuit until they were secluded in a corner. Coincidentally they were in the same study they'd been in a whole month ago, trying to patch up the friendships they'd believed they'd lost. Funny how he felt like he was dying in here just a few weeks later._

" _When they'd said we were playing a drinking game, I thought we were all drinking, not just you." Alicia eyed the half-empty bottle in his hands. "But I guess the game was 'Watch Derrick Drink Until We Have To Pump His Stomach.'"_

 _He rolled his eyes. "There are other bottles here, Riv," he retorted. "Take your pick."_

" _What do you want, Derrick? I was in the middle of something."_

" _Sure, yeah." He spared a glance behind him, watching Cam. "So, here's the thing. You're Massie's best friend, right? Yeah, don't answer that, I know you are. Look, I just need to know a thing and then I'll be gone, alright? So, I was arguing with Sadie and she said this thing… this thing I think she meant to hurt my feelings, which it did, but, like, I'm not sure if it's correct, because Sadie, well, she can be_ —"

"— _kind of a bitch? Yeah, I know."_

" _It was about Massie and I'd really like to know if_ — _is she seeing anyone? Like, is she seeing anyone I know?"_

 _Alicia chewed on the inside of her cheek, considering him. "I don't see how that is any of your business," she said, eyes flickering over his flushed cheeks, disheveled hair, the tie he'd loosened._

" _Well, I mean, it's kind of almost my business," Derrick blabbered, pausing to take a long pull of straight vodka, "because I kind of almost_ — _I mean, I think_ — _no, I know I'm in l_ — _no, I really like_ —"

"No, yep, I remember," Derrick said, heat creeping up his neck. Did he just go _telling_ people this over the weekend? Did he have no sense of tact? "And yep, you got it all in one, so maybe you should—"

"I want to apologize for not telling you then," Alicia interrupted. "It was terribly uncool of me."

He shook his head. "You owe me nothing, Rivera," he returned. "You were doing what you thought was best for Massie."

"I may not owe you anything, but you're still my friend, and I should have been more considerate, should have anticipated something like this would happen…"

"Because you can see the future?" he sniped. "Look, I appreciate you coming all the way out here. I can't believe you even remembered this is where I would go, but that post isn't the only… I'm under a lot of pressure, you know, with the soccer season ending this week, and if we win the next game, we're definitely headed towards Regionals, so that's stressful, and I had this really big test coming up in AP Physics and I'm, like, not actually good at Physics, I don't know why I'm in that cla—"

"Derrick, just tell m—"

"Tell you what, Rivera?" he spat, removing his knees, his feet, letting himself slide down and bringing her with him. He and Alicia were a tangle of limbs until she landed in an unceremonious heap on the ground. "Do you really want to know how fucking devastated I am? How badly I want to break into my mom's wine fridge and down an entire bottle of Cab Sav so at least I'll be drunk _and_ tired? How I don't know if I want to punch Cam in the face until he's unrecognizable or punch myself until I get it out of my head that I even stood a chance?"

Derrick heaved himself up, ignoring the way Alicia clammered to her feet, following him as he swiftly charged towards the track.

"Not to be rude or anything," she prefaced, and normally that meant she was intending to do so, "but you have a girlfriend."

"Had a girlfriend." Derrick kept marching ahead. Alicia struggled to match his long strides. "She broke up with me."

"You failed to tell me that."

"It doesn't seem very important in the grand scheme of things," he admitted.

Alicia huffed. "Derrick," she said in a hiss of insistence. "Talk to me."

"Why do I have to talk to you?" he exploded, whirling around. "Why do I have to say it out loud? Why can't you just _leave me alone_?"

"Derric—"

" _What_?" he snarled. He felt a pang of guilt for wanting to grab her and shake her until she shut up. He stifled the urge, shoving his trembling hands in his pockets. "You want me to say it that badly? Fine, I was crying because I'm in love with her. I want to destroy both myself and Cam because I'm in love with her. I've been in love with her for what feels like my entire life and I want to _die_." He heaved a breath, gritting his teeth. Through them, he hissed, "But you already knew that, didn't you?"

Her blink was the only answer he got.

"You're just a mean girl, that's all you are," he went on, fueled by his own negative emotions. "You like knowing things about people because then you get to turn around and do whatever you want with that information. So, what now? You going to leave and, like, giggle about this with Massie? Is that all today was? An elaborate plan to get me to admit, both drunk and sober, that I'm not over her? That I've spent the past two years ignoring her, being mean to her, because I'm still fucking—"

Her tiny hand slapping his cheek shut him up.

Derrick gaped at her, gripping her wrist in his large palm, squeezing just enough to keep her from moving. "What the fuck, Rivera."

"That's probably what I should have done after you forced yourself on me, but I was being nice," she simpered, teeth gleaming in an animalistic smile that set Derrick's heart rate again. "But mainly I'm offended you thought I would only come after you so I could _make fun of you_."

He licked his lips, matching her grin with one of his, watching in satisfaction as she allowed the tiny slip-up of a cower. _That's right_ , he wanted to say, _remember how mean I can be_. "Isn't that what you do, though?" he all but sang. "If you know me, then I know you, isn't that how it works? You used to terrorize Claire like this. Layne Abeley. Olivia. Strawberry. Kori. Dylan, once or twice..."

"Your point?" she demanded.

"Is it so wrong of me to wonder if that's what you're doing now?"

Alicia stared him down, eyes flashing like lightning in the dead of night. She was a force to be reckoned with; he'd almost forgotten how fun this could be. "I'm not like that anymore."

He coughed out a laugh.

"I'm not like that anymore with my _friends_ ," she amended. "I'm here because I care about you, Derrick."

He pulled his gaze away, the first sign of weakness. "Huh," he mused. "Seemed like the only ones worth caring about were Kemp and Plovert."

She pinched him. "Look, I'm sorry"—she sounded pained—"for forcing you to tell me anything. You didn't have to… but it stays with me. I will tell no one else. And I'm sorry for making you think you weren't important to me. To us."

There was something about her tone, about her earnestness, that had him blurting, "This is the first time I've been tossed to the side for them. You can't blame me for—"

"Tossed to the side, my ass," Alicia cut in. "Am I living in a world where you're not everyone's favorite? Come _awn_. They may say Cam's hot, but you're… you're like, what, an Adonis compared to him? Shut up, don't look at me like that, those were not my words—"

Derrick's shit-eating grin melted away with a sigh. "I'm still going to punch Cam in the face," he told her, dropping her wrist. She caught his hand again, squeezing. "But then I'll let him—them—do whatever they want."

"What?" She looked alarmed. "Why's that?"

He shrugged and the sun beginning to set behind him made him look all the more like some tortured main character of an indie film. You know, one who was beautiful, and muscled, and a terrible jock. "Isn't there like… I dunno, really, but if he makes her happy, then I'm happy. That's, like, a thing, right?"

Alicia looked confused, probably because he was giving up so quickly, but he continued on as if her silence wasn't eating at him: "I can also punch Kemp for you, if you'd like."

"Oh, I don't think that's…"

"I think I'll do it anyway," he decided. "Dude's an idiot." He chewed on his lower lip, sparing her a nervous glance. She could tell by the way his face spasmed. "You sure you're not going to tell Massie?"

"We're kind of not talking right now," Alicia confessed softly, playing with the sleeve of her sweater.

"Oh, yeah?" he questioned, like he didn't know, like he hadn't been mulling it over in his head all day, wondering _why_. "Why's that?"

Her sleeve was balled up in her hand. "I'm not really sure," she said. "It may be my fault, but she also didn't reach out, so it's probably equally our faults. I don't know about the rest of them, though, and Kristen's been MIA since Sunday morning, so…"

"Sounds like you need a good old-fashioned Pretty Committee chat."

"Eh, it's between the two of us and that's how it will stay." Alicia cleared her throat. "So you're in love with her, huh?"

He bumped his shoulder into hers, a little bit too hard to be considered friendly. "So you're not talking to her because what? Give me a clue. She was hardly around for her to really do anything."

"Exactly," Alicia said. "She was hardly around and even if she was, she was all over—"

"Does it really all come down to her and Chris?" he asked. "I mean, they're not even the ones who were… that's not even… it's funny, I guess, that we were all so wrong."

Alicia shook her head. "It's not about her and Chris. I didn't… I knew it was Cam, not him. It's about… I needed her and she was with him and nothing else seemed to matter but him, which. Okay, I get it, he was going through a thing and he's her, like, best friend, but so am I! And I'm much cuter than him, and probably a better cuddler, but, like, _sure_ , he has nicer eyes, like you could get lost in them, and it's not my fault I'm not a super cute soccer player, now is i—"

"Oh, Alicia," Derrick cooed, kind of meanly, kind of not, interrupting her.

"What?" she demanded, cheeks pink, eyes wide, pupils dilated.

He reached a hand up to ruffle her hair, which she didn't like. "Nothing," he elected to say. "Do you want to get ice cream?"

.

 _ **Kemp Hurley**_ : what taylor swift albums do u recommend  
 _ **Claire Lyons**_ : 1) why do you think I know anything about taylor swift albums  
 _ **Claire Lyons**_ : 2) what is your main emotion rn  
 _ **Kemp Hurley**_ : 1) claire really  
 _ **Kemp Hurley**_ : 2) SAD  
 _ **Claire Lyons**_ : red

.

"This pizza tastes like cardboard," Kemp whined, tossing his pepperoni slice back on his plate. "I feel like I've been broken up with. What am I supposed to do now?"

"Well," started Josh, "first, you're going to let me eat the rest of your pizza. Second, we're going to, I dunno, do something other than think about your life. Do you want to go mini-golfing?"

Kemp dropped his chin onto the table. "I hate golf," he said definitively.

"Movies?"

"I hate the cinema."

"The mall?"

"I could bump into so many people I know there."

"Same goes for here," Josh pointed out. "In fact…" He craned his neck, searching. "Half of the people in here go to our school. I'm pretty sure that's Todd over there. I wonder if he's been keeping up with the off-season workouts…"

Kemp scowled. "I do not care about your little baseball team, Joshua," he snapped, but there was no heat in it. "I feel like my life is ending. I can't believe Chris really told me he _needed space_ "—he used air-quotes here, lifeless and empty—"and walked away from me! I said I was sorry!"

Josh chewed on the pepperoni he pulled from the pizza, scrolling through the novel Massie had sent him via text. She was appropriately freaking out about the BOCDSecrets post, but he had no good advice to give. Except he couldn't say _sucks_ like he wanted to—that would make him a terrible friend—so he deliberated on what to say as the little ellipsis continued at the bottom of his screen.

"Yeah," he said, still chewing, "but you kissed the girl he liked. Hasn't happened to me, but I feel like his actions are justified."

"I blacked out!" Kemp insisted, waving a hand. "I can't be held accountable for my drunken actions!"

The other boy snorted, skimming the latest text ( _pretty sure this is also why Claire's pissed at me but like when has Cam ever expressed interest_ ) to which he responded ( _not against you or anything but Cam flirts with everything I understand her pain... also it's been years, lik t_ ).

"Are you Team Plovert?" Kemp demanded. "Stop ignoring me."

"I'm Team You, obviously," Josh answered, slapping his hand away from his phone. "Why else would I be here?"

"I dunno." Kemp ripped at some of the cheese, popping it in his mouth. "To lull me into a false sense of security?"

"Thought about it," Josh teased, "but seemed like too much work. You're also not the only friend I have going through a crisis."

"Ugh." Kemp groaned. "Tell Massie her crisis is _stupid_ and that you can't talk right now."

"I will do no such thing," said Josh. "She's being more open about hers than you are, anyway, so at least I can help her."

Kemp made this loud, strangled noise and forced himself into the proper sitting position. "Tell her that I say good job for getting that dick, but I'm more important right now." He blinked at Josh, waiting for him to do so. He didn't. "Josh! It's always the same thing with Massie. It's always about a boy. _I_ am truly the one who needs you."

"If you told me more, maybe I coul…"

"Fuckin' hell, man." Kemp frowned. "Tell her something much more exciting than her and Cam hooking up will be posted soon and everyone will be talking about that instead. Now focus on me; I need attention to live."

Josh regarded him coolly, licking at the tomato sauce settling on the corner of his lip. Kemp watched his tongue move, waiting for a response.

"I'm focusing on you," Josh said after three beats (he counted). "What else do you want?"

"Help meeeeeee," he whined again, an annoying sound. "Do you think Plov will ever forgive me?"

"Yeah, absolutely," Josh replied without even a moment of hesitation. "He's very self-aware. If he says he needs space, he needs space. He probably doesn't want to say anything he'd regret. Give him a day or two."

" _A day or two_?" Kemp repeated. "That's too long. I haven't gone that long without talking to Chris since we met in the _third grade_."

Josh patted his arm. "Maybe a little break is just what you two need."

Kemp stared at him, aghast. "I don't even remember it, Jay," he mumbled, shoving his head in his arms again. Must be his new thing to do. "I'm not kidding. I remember none of it."

"You weren't just saying that to…"

"No, and I feel bad because, like, Alicia's the hottest girl at our school and I should be kicking myself for not remembering what it was like, but…" He peeked out at Josh. "I didn't want to. I mean, I have no control over what drunk me wants, but sober me—he doesn't want to kiss Alicia, and that's… is that weird? Is there something wrong with me? _Everyone_ wants to kiss Alicia."

"I didn't want to kiss Alicia," Josh reminded him. "I still don't."

Kemp wrinkled his nose. "Is there something wrong with the both of us? Like. She's one of my best friends. I'm just… I'm just not into her. Attracted to her. I don't think I ever was."

"There's nothing wrong with that," Josh said. He locked his phone despite the incoming messages, knowing Massie was probably with Plovert as they spoke. He'd be able to give her what she needed. Kemp willingly talking about his feelings was rare. He needed to be fully present for this. "Nothing wrong with either of us, I don't think."

"But she's—"

"Hot, yeah," Josh replied over him, "I know. I'm well aware of her level of attractiveness, but that doesn't mean that I'm attracted to her. Or that you are. Don't force yourself to because… because you feel bad for not returning her advances. Don't do something, or make yourself feel something, because you don't want to hurt someone else. You matter too."

Kemp grumbled in response, probably mocking him, and Josh rolled his eyes. This was why talking to Kemp about, well, anything was annoying; he wanted to complain without listening to any sort of reason, any sort of advice. He wanted to listen to himself talk and that was it. Josh really wondered why he was still sitting here, but then he remembered.

Kemp mumbled, "Are you sure?" and Josh knew this was a big deal for him, being at odds with Plovert. They'd never seriously disagreed on anything before. They'd never even fought (unless it was for each other).

"I'm sure." Josh reached over and put his hand over Kemp's. He felt the other boy relax beneath his touch and then pull away like he'd been burned. "Everyone has different tastes, you know."

"Right." Kemp perked up a bit. "If I remember correctly, you didn't want to kiss Alicia because you wanted to kiss _Claire_. And you did! While Cam was still—"

"—yep, our stories are very similar," Josh interrupted around a grimace, heat creeping up his neck, spreading to his ears. It wasn't his best moment, making out with Claire when Cam was still (sort of) in the picture, but it wasn't hers either. He didn't like to be reminded of it. Everyone always thought he was so nice, but… he could take what he wanted if he desired to without any sort of care for the consequence. "And I turned out fine," he continued before he could lose track of himself, spiraling into a host of memories he didn't care to think about. "Cam and I talked it out and we're friends still, as you can tell."

Kemp chewed on his straw. "Yeah, but… it all came down to Claire being manipulative," he recalled. "She knew exactly what she was doing when she did that. You were just… a part of the game. Sorry," he added at Josh's wince, "I know that you… never mind, it doesn't matter, I guess, not anymore. You weren't fully to blame."

(See? Even his friends thought he'd been taken advantage of here, thought Claire had been the sole instigator. Hadn't considered that he'd also played her into falling for him. Hadn't considered he knew the game just as well.

He wondered if he should keep it that way or not.)

"Are you saying you are?"

"I did come on too strong too fast," Kemp allowed, frowning. "And I guess… I guess a part of me _knew_ she liked me, but I wasn't letting myself see it because it seemed so… I spent my whole life being her best friend. It never once occurred to me that she'd—" He stopped himself, shaking his head. "Plov's had a crush on her for years," he said unnecessarily.

"He's never gotten to know her as well as he does now," Josh said. "Are we sure he still has one?"

Kemp met his eye again, confusion clouding the brown of his iris. "Why wouldn't he?"

"Sometimes when you get to know someone they don't turn out to be who you thought they were," answered Josh, reaching across the table for another slice. "He's always had Alicia on this, like... pedestal and… and she might not the person he thought she was. Probably. I don't know."

"Huh."

"You're sure you don't have any feelings for her? Nothing hidden away that you won't let yourself acknowledge?"

"Yeah, Dr. Phil," Kemp quipped. "It's never crossed my mind."

Josh kicked his leg beneath the table. "You still have to talk to her, you know."

"I know." A deliberate, thoughtful pause. "So. What movies are out right now?"

"I thought you didn't like the cinema.

Kemp grinned lazily at him. "I lied."

.

 _ **Danny Robbins**_ : hey  
 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : heyyy  
 _ **Danny Robbins**_ : just wanted to let you know you looked really nice at massies party the other day  
 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : thanks. i don't remember seeing you there?  
 _ **Danny Robbins**_ : i behaved myself this time around  
 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : what a shame

.

When Monday turned to Tuesday and the last day of the month (Halloween) fell upon them, the division was clear.

Massie would be lying if she said she wasn't concerned with who went where, the mean words Dylan had thrown at her weeks ago circling her mind. _Me kris and claire don't even really like you all that much anyways_ —words she'd saved in her head, in her heart, in the tips of her fingers, to remind herself that she could be a terrible person. That she _was_ a terrible person.

But it wasn't Dylan, Kristen, and Claire that left her; it was Dylan, _Alicia_ , and Claire that left, and with their silence, a gaping hole built itself inside of her. She didn't get it, didn't understand why they couldn't… why they _wouldn't_ … They'd gotten through more than this, she thought. They'd strengthened their friendships, became more than friends, became family. She thought she knew why Alicia wasn't speaking to her (some attachment to Chris she refused to acknowledge), but Dylan? Claire ( _did she still have a thing for Cam_ )?

She never would have expected Kristen to stick by her side. It had always been Massie and Alicia against the world, with the other three hovering around, there for her when she needed them. Maybe that was where this all stemmed from: She was a bad friend. She used people, made them think she thought them important to her, and then sort of ignored them when there were others around she wanted instead.

It was Alicia. It was Chris. Just two. Two people she wanted to be around most, and she had how many other friends?

"You're moping," Cam said, pressing a finger against her mouth.

She didn't even have the energy to slap his hand away. "Yes."

He used his thumb to pull at her lips, forcing a smile onto her face. "They're being overdramatic," he advised her. "They'll get over it."

"But what if they don't?" she whispered back. "What if I fucked it up big time?"

"Alicia can't stay away from you for long." Cam gave her a long, searching look. "You are two halves of a whole."

"Do you feel that way about Derrick?"

They'd just celebrated, like, twelve years of friendship and now Cam's biggest secret was publicized on an anonymous Instagram page. If Massie ever found out who was in charge of that account, she was going to rip them limb from limb.

Cam merely shrugged a shoulder. "He needs an opportunity to punch me in the face and then we'll be fine."

"And you know that for certain?" Cam nodded. Massie sighed. "Being a boy is so easy."

"Don't stop your life for people because they are upset with you," offered Cam, running a thumb over Massie's knuckles. "You can either sit here, like this, or continue doing whatever it is you do. They either get past it or they don't, but that shouldn't change you. Not unless you want it to. Not unless you think that's what's right."

Massie quirked a brow at him, gaze raking over his stupidly handsome face. His hair started growing out again, falling in his eyes, which sparkled in that mischievous way of his he shared with his older brother. The tautness of his jaw and the set of his mouth told her he was concerned though—about her, about his friends, perhaps not concerned about himself. "You seem very sure of this."

"Contrary to popular belief, Derrick and I have fought before," he told her, fingers moving from her hand to tug at her belt loops, pulling her closer to him. "There was two weeks in eighth grade where we didn't speak. A time in ninth where our brothers had to interfere. We always get past it. I'm not worried."

"Huh," Massie mused, letting him hoist her into his lap. "He might not care as much if he realized this wasn't as serious as he imagined it to be."

Cam's mouth ghosted along her jawline. "We were super discreet—"

"—something _you_ insisted upon, if I remember correctly—"

He nipped at the skin by her ear. "And if this gets him to get off his ass and do something about his feelings for you, I consider it a job well done."

"Mm," she murmured as he licked a stripe down her throat, tongue pooling in the space between her neck and collarbone. "Feelings for me?"

"Yeah," he said. She lifted her arms up, letting him pull her shirt off over her head. "And you have ones for him."

Her fingers deftly unbuttoned his flannel shirt, head ducking to press her mouth against his chest as more and more skin became exposed. "Does it upset you?" she breathed against his sternum. "That this never meant anything?"

"It upset me when I thought I'd gotten it wrong and you were really into Plovert," he replied honestly. "I'm okay with losing to Derrick, but to Plov? It'd kill me."

"I was never anything for you to lose," she returned, pushing his fabric of his shirt off his shoulders. "I was never something you were afraid of losing," she reiterated. "Are you going to talk to her when this is over?"

"Probably not." He flicked at the back of her bra. "I don't think she likes me."

Massie let the bra fall off her arms. Cam reached up, palmed one of her breasts. "You're not paying attention then," she told him around a mewl. "Just see how she reacts now that we're out in the open."

"This ends tonight, though," he murmured, watching her face.

"Make it count, then, Fish," Massie challenged, mouth quirking. "Doesn't matter, though, if we're over or not," she added, squeaking as he flipped her over. Her back pressed against her comforter, soft and fuzzy. "They still know we _were_ something and if that doesn't grind her gears then she doesn't like you."

"Grinds her gears." He snorted. "What do you wanna do?"

Massie waved a casual hand, as if amicably ending a sexual relationship with a boy was something she did often. "Whatever," she answered. "All of it."

Cam sat back on his haunches. "I won't miss your indecisiveness," he said.

"I hope you one day find a girl who wants to tell you everything she wants you to do to her," retorted Massie, grinning at him. "You seem to like that."

"What can I say?" he shot back. "I like to take direction."

"Fine," Massie relented. "C'mere."

Cam lowered himself, hoisting himself on his elbows, and allowed Massie to take his face in her hands, press their mouths together. "In a world where Derrick didn't exist—"

"—uh, no, I already don't want to live in that world—"

Massie bit his lip. "I could probably date you," she admitted, "could probably love you."

He blinked at her, not used to her revealing her feelings—they didn't _do_ that, not unless they were angry, not unless they were sexual—but he seemed to understand. Before he could respond, before he could think of anything to say that competed with that, Massie whispered, a ghost of a sound, "I want you to fuck me."

"Is your dad home?"

"No."

"Will he be home soon?"

"No."

"Cool," Cam said, one of those seductive smirks pulling at his mouth, "I'm gonna make you scream."

"Making it count, I see." Though her tone was easy, playful, her body shook in anticipation.

Cam ripped her pants down, letting her kick them off her ankles, and kissed a path down her stomach to her lacy underwear. "Of course," he replied, matching her tone. "I'm nothing if not a generous lover."

"I'll make sure to give you a high rating."

"That's all I ask," he breathed, throwing a leg over his shoulder, and settling himself in to devour her, licking at her like she was some kind of popsicle. "I'll give him pointers, so he knows exactly what to do."

" _Cam_ ," she warned, gripping his hair. "I think he'll be just fine. Now, can we stop talking about him when I'd rather focus on yo- _ooooh_!"

.

 _Hey, I know this is stupid and that we aren't actually in a bad place, but_ —

Alicia bit her lip, deleted the entire message (which was typing up on _SnapChat_ , of all places), and opened up her chat with Dylan instead.

 _So,_ she started, _for the football party on Friday what should I wear?_

She didn't need an answer, didn't need an opinion. An outfit was already sitting in her closet, something tight and hot. She was just…

She was lonely.

She missed her best friend and she still wasn't sure what she did wrong. What they did wrong. How did they get here? Why wasn't she talking to her? Her thumb hovered over the Messages icon on her homescreen, the words she'd spoken to her earlier that day racing through her head—

" _Look, he doesn't want to talk to you right now, okay? He's nauseous and miserable and he'd rather have a clear head…"_

She'd walked away before Massie'd even finished her explanation, which was rude, but...

It reminded her that Massie hadn't called when she'd asked her to. Hadn't texted. She'd managed to Snap about Chris, though, so clearly her phone was working. Her entire Story was full of videos of him in every filter imaginable, learning how to make simple Spanish cuisine from Inez, napping on her bed, painting her nails. It was annoying how in sync they were, how she could live a whole day without Alicia being there.

Was she on the outs again? Why, though? What had she done? Every time Massie had hated her, had kicked her out of their group, there'd been a reason. Hanging out with Olivia, starting her own rival clique because she wanted more attention, trying to make things bigger than they were… Alicia had always started something.

This time… this time she hadn't. She'd only kissed the boy she'd been crushing on. All she wanted was her best friend there. All she wanted was her best friend _s_ , plural, but no one was there. No one cared. Alicia's heart was breaking into a million pieces and yet…

 _Fuck it_ , she thought, fingers racing across her keypad.

She'd had this whole thing planned out. She was going to swallow her pride and apologize, even though she wasn't sure what she was apologizing _for_. Though it must have been terrible for all of this to occur, right? She was going to tell Massie how much she loved her, that she was her best, best friend, and she really didn't want to go another day in whatever limbo they were in, and—

—and she couldn't even get a word out because Massie's voicemail was full.

Typical.

Really fucking typical.

There was a tiny vibration and Alicia, with her heart in her throat, was disappointed to find it was Dylan who answered: _that little black romper you have._

Alicia cast a glance at the hanger balanced on her closet door, brows twitching into a frown. It was like Dylan could read her mind; that little black romper was what she'd chosen, though she couldn't decide if she should wear tights or not. If she was drunk enough it wouldn't matter, but there was a chance she wouldn't be, which, now that she thought about it, was ridiculous. It was a football party. She'd be more than drunk enough.

She made one last ditch effort to call Massie, but she didn't answer and Alicia knew better than to hope she'd cleaned out her inbox in the past five minutes. There was no indication she'd even noticed the calls, and it was late, but it still made Alicia's stomach roll. She'd always have that girl's back, no matter what, but she just _needed to answer her_. They couldn't fight over something stupid like this. They just couldn't.

When her phone was still silent another ten minutes later, Alicia sniffed, found Derrick's contact info, and messaged him: _hello are you awake?_

Not even three minutes later, he said, _ya what's up?_

 _Wanna sleep in my bed with me?_ she asked, digging her nails into her palm, hoping she didn't sound as sexual as she seemed.

 _Can I still scale the side of your house to get to your balcony?_

 _Uhhhhh I think so_

 _K be there in 15._

"Hey," Derrick greeted, breathless from hoisting himself up to the second floor. "What's up?"

Alicia pointed at her party outfit. "If I wear that, will I look too slutty?"

He considered it. "No. You'd look good. Like. Regular good."

"Okay," she said. "Thanks."

Derrick looked at her, like _really_ looked at her, eyes narrowing as he took in her facial expression, her messy, slightly dirty hair. He said nothing, kicking his shoes off, and throwing himself onto her mattress. He was in his pajamas—clearly she'd gotten him right before he was going to sleep—and he looked a dream (if she were into him like that, which she wasn't, thanks) in his cute little plaid pants, opening his arms to her.

She blinked, still tightly gripping her phone, still waiting for Massie to answer her.

"Come cuddle," he ordered, "I'm sleepy."

Alicia dropped her cell on her nightstand, welcoming Derrick's warm embrace. They used to do this all the time back in the day, finding comfort in each other when they couldn't find it elsewhere, and Alicia felt bad she wasn't able to feel any better wrapped up in him.

Still, she murmured, "Thanks," and he squeezed her, almost as if he knew he wasn't doing her any good.

.

"You're getting home late," Jay Lyons remarked as Todd rushed into the dining room for dinner the next night, over twenty minutes after the designated time. "Busy day?"

Todd's cheeks were flushed, hair a shocking mess, like hands had been running through it, as he dropped himself into a chair. "Yeah," he panted, folding his hands in front of him. "Josh cornered me about baseball and then I had to go to the library for a group project and I lost track of time. Sorry." That last part was directed towards their mother.

Judi merely smiled at him, but Claire narrowed her eyes, not trusting a word he said.

First of all, Josh had a soccer game after school, the last one of the regular season. She knew this because the school wouldn't shut up about it and also because the boys' social medias were nothing but hype posts. Second, Todd _never_ stepped foot in the library. He made it his mission to avoid it at all costs, even going as far as asking Claire to get books for him when he needed them. Something about the "dust" irritating his "sinuses." Third, Claire knew he was with Kristen because she stalked both of them on the Snap Map and they failed to put themselves on Ghost Mode.

Normally she wouldn't be concerned about it, but after BOCDSecrets had sent her those two pictures—one of Massie and Cam and the other of Kristen and Todd at Ripple's birthday party—Claire was immediately on edge.

Why was one of her friends kissing her fourteen year old brother? Todd had always harbored crushes on each of the Pretty Committee members, had done so since he was, like, ten, switching them out for whichever one caught his interest that month. It wasn't weird for him to go after Kristen, but for Kristen to allow it…

When had it happened? _Why_ had it happened?

Todd was a literal child. Kristen was witty, smart, and beautiful; surely she wouldn't even consider it, even if she were plastered and he was the last boy on earth...

She fished her phone out of her pocket, hoping the BOCDSecrets account had answers for her. It seemed to know everyone else's business.

 _How long has this been going on for?_ she asked.

"Claire, you know the rules," her mother said sternly. "No phones at the table."

"Sorry," she mumbled, flipping it over and placing it on her lap. She stabbed at a meatball, definitely courtesy of Inez because her mom's were normally horrendous, and listened to her parents blabber on about their days. Todd chimed in here and there with funny anecdotes of his classes.

Judi asked, "Are your friends still not talking to each other?"

Claire shrugged, twirling spaghetti around her fork. "I think so," she answered, dropping the food only to start back over. "I've been spending more time with Layne at school so I wouldn't really know."

"Huh," Jay grunted. "Do we know why they aren't speaking?"

"Well, some of them are and some of them aren't." Claire didn't feel like mentioning she wasn't speaking to Massie, or half the boys, or anyone really. Didn't want to have to explain that to her nosy parents, who would, no doubt, try to wrangle William and Kendra into fixing things. "But I'm not really sure why. I'd rather not get involved in that mess, if you know what I mean."

Out of the corner of her eye, Todd swallowed, like he knew something, like he knew more about her friends than she did, and Claire pushed herself up out of her chair, afraid that he probably did.

"May I be excused?"

She didn't wait for an answer.

Taking the stairs two at a time, Claire made it into her room in a flash, throwing herself on her bed. She felt weird. All discombobulated, like she was there, but she wasn't. Sort of like an out of body experience where she was watching someone else live her life.

Todd and Kristen.

Massie and Cam.

Never in a million years had she thought she'd end up here, with those two couples looming over her head. She'd won Cam from Massie fair and square all those years ago, so why was he going after her now? What was it about Massie that made all the boys just stop what they were doing and fawn all over her? She was nicer than she used to be, but she really wasn't _that_ nice, so it wasn't like she'd changed… Unless everyone else did and Claire failed to notice it.

She turned her attention to her phone with a sniff, annoyed at herself for getting caught in her whirlwind of feelings again. She thought she was better than this. Thought she'd been able to lock everything Cam-related away. You know, besides the superficial thoughts she could not control, but when a boy looked _that_ good you noticed. It wasn't a crime.

 _ **BOCDSecrets**_ : your brother + Kristen: this past weekend  
 _ **BOCDSecrets**_ : Cam + Massie: september

Months. They'd been doing this for almost two months.

 _ **BOCDSecrets**_ : no one knows about todd and kristen  
 _ **BOCDSecrets**_ : alicia knew about cassie, so did josh and plovert

But no one told Claire. No one thought she'd have the right to know—

 _ **BOCDSecrets**_ : none of those people would have told u about it. Theyre all so far up massies ass theyd keep her being a serial killer on the DL

Claire rolled her eyes.

 _ **BOCDSecrets**_ : but listen i think you really deserve to know about these things. I know how annoying it is to be kept in the dark about things that apply to you. We can get back at them, if you'd like. I have a lot of dirt on all of them…  
 _ **BOCDSecrets**_ : and that includes Todd

 _ **lyonsroar**_ : id really rather not destroy my brother but im listening if you want to tell me what youve got on him  
 _ **lyonsroar**_ : and im upset and annoyed but i dont know if im that upset and annoyed to try to "get back at them"

 _ **BOCDSecrets**_ : up to you, lil lyon. Friends are supposed to look out for each other, right? Ask if they can go after your exbf (who you clearly still have a thing for) or your brother (bc thats common courtesy). Theyre all going behind your back...that would piss ME off, but youve always been a much nicer person than me idk  
 _ **BOCDSecrets**_ : Just remember im always here if you wanna sharpen those claws of yours

.

 _ **jotz**_ posted a new video  
 _are we allowed to have champagne on campus right now? idk but playoffs here we cooooome  
_ 1,967 likes / 47 comments  
 **mmmblock** _i'm so proud of my son  
_ **kemphurley** _im gonna regret this but everyones invited to raid my dads liquor cabinet tn my parents are never home!  
_ **ripplebax** _josh covered in champagne is everything i never knew i needed thanks_ _ **cplov47  
**_ **arosesinger** _yall better take it all the way im about to put a lot of money on this  
_ **cplov47** _just giving the fans what they want_ _ **ripplebax**_

.

 **mindybaum** (2m)  
 _Not to toot my own horn or anything but this action shot of_ _ **jotz**_ _i...to die for. I'll sell it on a shirt if the demand is high enough  
_ 602 likes / 412 retweets

 **kemphurley** **  
**replying to _ **mindybaum**_  
 _I want 40_

 **jotz**  
replying to _**mindybaum**_ _and_ _**kemphurley**_  
 _I love my fans_

.

 _ **kemphurley**_ posted a new photo  
 _big fans, can't believe we got to meet him in person! thanks for the follow back_ _ **jotz**_ _  
_2,588 likes / 34 comments  
 **derrickharrington** _my literal idol  
_ **k_bassett** _u guys r so hot  
_ **becbrie** _im sweating  
_ **mmmblock** _iS HE SIGNING YOUR BICEP  
_ **kemphurley** _hell yeah baby_ _ **mmmblock**_


	15. Hey Mickey

**a/n** : hello again! a week later!

i was going to write this whole thing here about your reviews and your concerns, but... i just don't want to. please note that when i asked what you wanted to see todd/kristen was mentioned to me often, and this is, at its core, a rewrite, and todd/kristen was in there, with a different age gap. at my high school, freshmen dated seniors more often than you'd think, and no one blinked an eye.

you'll get a lot of things you want in this chapter, and so i'd like to note that the alicia/massie thing you will see actually happened to me with a friend in college, we were 'in a fight' for like a week and a half until we finally realized we actually weren't lmao. also derrick and cam are weird AF i don't even know what they're doing, but they'll be okay.

you'll be getting a part two to this chap, because apparently i'm only good at writing party scenes. *shrug emoji*

* * *

 _Oh, Mickey, you're so fine  
You're so fine, you blow my mind, hey, Mickey  
Hey, Mickey  
_\- "Hey Mickey," Toni Basil

.

Everyone used Snapchat for a different reason.

Dylan used it to document funny things she saw in everyday life, or, more recently, to defame Derrick's soccer poster to the point that he threatened to block her _and_ call the authorities (though he screenshot every one so she wasn't too worried).

Kristen hardly used it at all, but she responded to her friends. And she sent Kemp the answers to Goldstein's Calc II homework every day without fail.

Claire broadcasted sunsets, sunrises, pretty landscapes, artsy shots of shoes, people at school. She always used accurate geofilters. She often compared the sky throughout the day, the exact time pasted in the middle, which kind of, sort of ruined the picture entirely, but don't tell her that.

Alicia was torn between using hers for investigative journalism (read: catching drama in the act), posting OotDs, and showing off things she was doing she knew would upset certain people. Many people responded to her videos with _#petty_ , and by 'many people' it was just Dylan.

Massie had no distinctive theme, though lately hers was just of Plovert in various positions, asleep. Or cooking.

Derrick and Cam posted creepy, stalkerish pictures of each other with stupid captions. Even in their week of uncomfortable silence, they managed to continue this trend. The most recent: _it is the East, and Derrick is the sun_. You can imagine the picture.

Kemp rotated between asking insightful questions about societal norms, posting old pictures of Massie's dog, and Reply-Snapping for the answers to Goldstein's Calc II homework (which he got from Kristen).

Plovert retaliated against Massie, using his artistic abilities to turn her into Disney princesses, superheroes, and, his favorite, various cats. He spent more time on this endeavor than he did anything else.

Josh pretended to be a vlogger, or a celebrity, or someone equally as annoying. His Story was often the longest, and the one everyone absentmindedly clicked through, not really paying attention.

But on Sunday, November 3, whether it be crack of dawn early, mid-morning, or late afternoon, everyone was thankful Josh was so attached to his phone, for they spent an indeterminable amount of time watching the only full recollection of their night they had.

* * *

i. _wooooow u guys should kiss_

* * *

It was silent and then-

The blare of a trumpet. A matching drumbeat. The entire brass section of the school marching band raced to meet each other in a rousing rendition of the BOCD Fight Song, which was just an incredible arrangement of Queen's "Don't Stop Me Now," "We Will Rock You," and "We Are The Champions," which was probably extremely illegal.

The cheerleaders burst into one last cheer. The crowd roared in the stands, stomping their feet on the metal bleachers. Somewhere, in the madness, a seven year old blew and blew on a whistle.

The scoreboard read 41-35.

The Briarwood-Octavian Country Day Phoenixes- a school-wide vote decided the mythical bird was a much better mascot than the tomahawk, a literal _weapon_ \- won the last football game of the regular season. That was the second win of the week and made them the second team to go undefeated that season.

(Or, as Derrick was wont to remind them, _almost_ -undefeated. The football team lost Homecoming, which was _hysterical_ , but no one was talking about that now, and it mattered a lot to him. Because the soccer team lost- oh, that's right- _none_ of their games.)

The field was still covered in a stunned hush, the team all but frozen in the positions from their last play, Dune Baxter standing in the endzone, staring directly at quarterback Danny Robbins, who hadn't gotten off the ground after he'd been tackled as soon as the ball left his fingertips. They hadn't even gone for the extra point, letting the clock run out, staring at each other, Danny's elbows digging into the dirt as he gazed at his wide receiver.

There was a hush as the fans cheered.

There was a hush as the band played.

There was a hush as the last cheerleader landed safely within the arms of their bases.

There was a hush and then there wasn't.

"Did we run out of tequila?"

"I brought two things of it," Kemp answered, rummaging through his backpack, "you know, just in case."

"In case of _what_?" questioned Claire, wrinkling her nose at his actions. She'd tagged along for Dylan's sake, even though she wanted to stay home and really contemplate her life and how she'd gotten to this point (and finish an already-late History paper on colonialism and white imperialism).

Normally she wouldn't have had to do this, but Kristen had expressed to Dylan who'd blurted it to her while she was whining that Cam asked her (Kristen) to hang out with him at the game because he wasn't sure Derrick would want to talk to him and he didn't want to make him uncomfortable by hanging out with the rest of their friends. They currently sat in the same section, just two rows up and all the way on the other side, with Plovert.

Kemp lifted a hand, tossed Derrick a full water bottle of tequila, and gestured to the field. "In case of this."

"And also I want to be as drunk as humanly possible for the party Ali is dragging us to," added Derrick around a mouthful. He didn't even flinch at the raw taste. He was so inspiring.

Kemp's wince beside him was obvious and kind of painful; Derrick slapped him on the shoulder. _Us_ was a loose term. Alicia had mentioned the party to Dylan and Claire at table eighteen, where Derrick had taken up sitting after Monday's fiasco, and peer-pressured him into going, most likely knowing Massie had asked Chris and Kemp (and probably Cam, now that they were… like, whatever they were) to go with her, and Cam had, in turn, asked Kristen, and now they were all here. At the football field at, like, nine at night.

It was a testament to all their friendships, even as some of them frayed and bent, that they all found themselves there.

More so, it was a testament to how the boys felt about the girls that they found themselves there. The football-soccer rivalry was no secret. No joke. If there wasn't a fight between them right now- and there probably wouldn't, not with the football team on such a high after winning- there would no doubt be one later. At the party they were all going to.

Claire wondered if she could get out of it, but as confident and easygoing as Dylan was, she didn't like being alone with the boys. So Claire would stay until she could wriggle her way out of it.

 _Until they partner up and ditch you_ , a little voice said in the back of her mind. A voice that sounded incredibly like Massie, snobby and snotty at age twelve, mocking her for her Keds, and her bangs, and her Florida overalls.

She shook her head, ridding herself of the thought. Dylan had _asked_ her to spend the night with her. She'd gone out of her way to tell her how insecure she felt when it was just her and the boys, because they seemed to get each other in a way she never would, communicating with glances and sounds and in jokes she would never be included in. Claire knew what that felt like, remembered how hard it'd been to be on the edges of the Pretty Committee, having to ask to be included, and so… and so she'd go to the party, even if she'd rather die than stay longer than ten minutes. Maybe she'd find something cleansing in it. If not that, it would definitely take her mind off things for an hour or two.

Anyway, Kemp had winced because Alicia wasn't dragging _him_ to the party; she was dragging Derrick and this upset him, even though he hadn't done a thing to express any of his feelings, whether they be negative or positive, to Alicia in the past week.

"When's the party again?"

"Whenever they're done doing that." Josh pressed his mouth into a line, frowning at the celebrating team.

"You guys literally did the same thing not even twelve hours ago," Dylan pointed out. "Don't look so disgusted by it."

Josh's mouth fell open into a gape he controlled after a brief moment of unadulterated shock. "We are much more dignified than that," he insisted, pointing his finger at her. " _That_ is a clusterfuck of emotion. We were elegant, and mature, and-"

"-Derrick cried, I have a video," Dylan interrupted.

"No, I didn't," Derrick shot back.

"Uhhhh, yeah, you did, dude," Kemp retorted, taking the bottle back. He took a swig, rolling his eyes at Derrick, who stuck his tongue out in reply. "Real elegant and mature of you."

"I want to make a full length thing of all the times Derrick has cried over a soccer game," Dylan went on. "Dramatic zoom-ins on one lone tear as it falls down his cheek… set to, like, 'Set Fire to the Rain' by Adele."

Kemp considered this with a tilt of his head. "I'd watch it."

"I'd thumbs up it on YouTube," agreed Josh.

"Well, I _wouldn't_ ," said Derrick, leaning forward to flick his fingers against Dylan's collarbone. "I would _report it_."

"You know as well as I do you wouldn't," Dylan shot back, slapping his hand away as it tried to tug on one of her more erratic curls. "You love that shit. That's why you keep saving my poster Snaps-"

"Those are honest to God works of art," Josh agreed, wincing around a swallow of tequila. Kemp made grabby hands back at it, but only held the bottle between his knees. "I save them too."

"I liked the one where you made him look like he was murdering you," Kemp chimed in, drumming his fingers on his thighs. "Can you believe they're still-"

"-oh, no, no, no," Kristen said loudly, standing up abruptly, her oversized bag tumbling to her feet.

They all turned their gazes to her- and Cam, who reached down to shove her things back in- as she scurried down the bleachers, leaping over benches until she was charging down the steps and-

"Oh, shit," Dylan breathed, "Alicia's confronting Massie."

"I think it should be Massie confronting Alicia, since Alicia is the one ignoring her, but…" Josh mumbled, eyes following Kristen's lithe form as she moved.

"Is this a bad thing?" Derrick asked, knocking Josh on the shoulder. "Is this a good thing?"

The other boy made a noncommittal sound.

Claire, on the other hand, thought this was a good thing. If anything, it'd keep Alicia from whining everyday.

"Where are you going?" Kemp asked.

"To eavesdrop." Josh sent him a pointed look. "You coming?"

There was not even a second to deliberate: "Yeah."

Claire wondered if she should follow, but realized she could see perfectly fine from where she was sitting. When it was clear she wasn't moving, Dylan slid closer to her. Derrick, on the other hand, balled up the sleeves of his sweatshirt in his fists and continued to watch the football team celebrate...or he watched his dad, who still assistant coached them, acting all buddy-buddy and fatherly with Danny Robbins and Dempsey Solomon.

Massie and Alicia, on the other hand…

"I'm _done_ with you ignoring me," Alicia shouted at Massie's back, a clear sign she was upset. Alicia hated confrontation, but would do it if she must, and would vary between being super loud or super upset. Either way, there was a distinct possibility this would end in tears.

And, for once, they wouldn't be Claire's.

She and Dylan watched with blatant interest- the latter more so than Claire, who absentmindedly picked at her nails at the same time- as Massie's back stiffened, her walk pausing, one foot still half in the air.

Quietly, though it seemed to travel like a yell: "I'm not ignoring you."

Hands on her hips, ponytail whipping into her face due to the wind, Alicia snapped, "Yeah? Then why won't you turn around?"

Behind them, Derrick inhaled sharply. Then there was a rustle of movement, and he was flat on his back, staring up at the dark sky.

"I don't want to fight," Massie said, "and I don't want to do this right here if you are going to yell at me."

It was easy to tell Alicia was shocked by her response, if the stumble in her step was anything to go by. "No, Massie," she replied. "You don't get to act like that around me. You don't…you don't get to treat me like you treat everyone else. I _know_ you, I know that you- that you… It's me, here, not the whole school. You don't have to- you don't have to pretend with me."

"I'm not ignoring you," Massie said again, "and I don't want to do this here."

"Admit you ignored my phone call the other night," challenged Alicia, squeezing her pom pom tightly. "And you ignored all my text messages, and-"

There was a thud next to Claire, a grumble from behind her, and Cam's voice asked, "What's going on?"

"Oh," Claire replied blankly, shifting so her shoulder wasn't touching his. "You have eyes, right?"

His multi-toned gaze scrutinized the side of her face; she felt it, the heat of his blue eye, always the one that seemed to _know_ more than the other. "You get bitchy when you drink tequila."

Derrick smothered a chuckle in his hoodie, coughing.

Dylan whacked at him, her hand barely making contact with any part of his body, her attention focused on her friends down below.

"I didn't drink any tequila," Claire shot back.

Alicia hissed something about _ten text messages, two phone calls, I needed you_ and Massie, who'd finally turned around, snapped something like _what text messages, what phone calls, you ignored mine, did you ever consider that I wanted to talk to you-_

"Yes, you did," Cam said, and it bothered Claire that he was paying more attention to her than this oddly tame fight happening between Alicia and Massie. "I watched you."

"Why were you watching me?" she demanded, hoping her voice didn't shake, didn't give away too much, like how his close proximity was making her sweat. "There was a game going on."

She saw him roll his eyes from her peripheral. "As if I'd pay attention to that." He scoffed and his body twitched like he wanted to look at Derrick. He didn't. "I was just making sure you didn't, y'know, die. You remember the last time you had tequila."

"That wasn't the last time I had tequila," Claire mumbled, face flushing, "but I remember."

He was silent.

"No need for you to look after me, either," she added, shifting so she was closer to Dylan, who pressed her index and middle fingers against her elbow in support, and had a better view of Massie and Alicia. "I can take care of myself."

Kristen looked like she was going to intervene, but Josh shook his head ever so subtly, and she hesitated.

"-didn't do anything with _anyone_ , and I'm sorry that I wasn't, that I wasn't _there_ , but in front of everyone is not the place to have this conversation," Massie insisted rapidly, hardly taking a breath. "If you wanna yell at me, this can wait until we're at my house, or we're alone, or-"

Alicia stomped her foot. "I don't want to wait!" she exclaimed. "I want you to be my best friend again!"

"I NEVER STOPPED," Massie cried out, nose wrinkling and brows furrowing. She was one of the only people Claire knew that somehow still looked nice when she was upset. Maybe that was why so many boys liked her; she was always so perfect. "If you needed me, I would have been there. I didn't get any of your messages, okay? If you don't believe me, look at my phone. Just- just look at it."

Dylan gasped as Massie pulled her phone out of her cheer bag and just fucking _tossed it_ at Alicia's feet.

"I never said you couldn't," Cam answered Claire, "and I don't like when you lie to me."

Claire let out a little sound, slightly incredulous, and returned, "I didn't like it when you lied to me, either."

Cam licked his lips. "I said I was sorry."

"Right," agreed Claire, because 'sorry' really fixed everything. "I'm sorry I lied about drinking tequila when I really did, which you knew because you watched me do it."

Alicia bent down to pick up Massie's phone.

Chris, from his original spot, sent out a warning kick at Danny Robbins, who watched Alicia from his spot on the home team's bench, getting interviewed for the local paper, eyes glued to her tiny skirt. The quarterback flipped him off behind his back.

"The passcode is-"

"-I know what it is." Alicia typed it in, scrolled through Massie's messages. Either Alicia was extremely respectful (which she wasn't, not really) or Massie really had no secrets from her for their fearless leader was watching Alicia without even a glimmer of nervousness or discomfort in her face.

"As you can see," Massie announced, as if it were to the whole group and not just Alicia, "I have only texted Chris, Josh, Kemp, and Kristen in the past four days."

"You also texted Cam about pizza," Alicia noted.

"He forgot what kind of pizza he liked," Massie answered the unspoken question.

Dylan looked around Claire to stare at him.

Cam nodded. "It's true," he said. "I was, like, really high and I couldn't figure out which pie I liked, and…" He shrugged. "I made her order it for me."

Claire pinched the skin between her thumb and index finger, digging her nails into the flesh.

Derrick coughed around a laugh again. She thought she heard him say something like _typical_.

"You also texted Todd in all caps."

"I needed computer help," Massie explained. "He's, like, a tech genius these days."

"And…" Alicia wet her lips, tugging the bottom one between her teeth. "And the last thing I texted you was…"

" _Ripple and the other three are here I don't know their names also where is your highlighter brush I dropped mine in the sink_ ," Massie and Alicia recited, though Alicia was a bit slower than Massie was.

Josh's phone dropped into his lap.

"You really didn't get my messages?" Alicia's voice was small. "I don't… why didn't… it shows that…" She dropped into a squat, rifling through her own bag to find her own phone. "You're at the top of my- oh." Her cheeks tinged pink and she giggled awkwardly. "Uh, they… never sent?"

There was a beat of silence and then Derrick couldn't hide his amusement anymore. The cackle that initially escaped him sounded like it hurt, but he didn't do anything other than laugh.

Massie's gaze fell on him as his foot slipped and slammed against the floor, the sound echoing around them. And she, too, was laughing, holding her hand out to look at Alicia's phone herself, and Alicia's teeth were chattering as she fought off an embarrassed smile, her awkward giggles transforming into full-blown chortles.

"I answer you back like… like"- Massie took a deep breath- "twenty seconds after you text me. Didn't you think it was weird when I didn't answer you for a day?"

"I was in the middle of a crisis! I wasn't thinking straight!"

"Clearly," Massie agreed. "Were you in your dance studio? You know you have bad reception there."

Alicia blinked, tilting her head to the side. "Yeah."

"Wait," Josh said, "this Cold War you've been having happened because Alicia's home dance studio has bad phone service and she didn't check to see if you received her texts?"

Even Kristen was laughing. The innocent summarization of their fight was too funny to be real, but here they all were.

"And the last phone call?" questioned Alicia.

"I was asleep," Massie answered. "And then I was running late in the morning and forgot about it."

"For best friends, you two really need to work on your communication skills," Kemp advised, leaning back on his elbows.

Alicia avoided looking at him, eyes still on Massie's face.

Massie, on the other hand, shot him a look and went, "Funny. I think you could take that advice, too."

Josh ducked his head and murmured, " _Oooooooooooh_."

Kemp cuffed him around the head.

"Are you going to the afterparty?" Alicia asked Massie, clearly eager for a subject change.

"She better be." Danny Robbins sauntered over to them, his hair still sweaty against his forehead, face smarmy, eyes glittering. "She missed the last one and I need all my ladies there."

Massie shoved at him, rolling her eyes.

Kemp made this deep, growling sound from the back of his throat.

"Yes," the girl replied, ducking away from Danny. "I'm dragging Chris with me. And Kristen, if she ever makes a decision or not."

The blonde made a show out of thinking about it, hugging her knees to her chest. "It _was_ a good game"- Derrick coughed here- "so I suppose I could show up."

"Great." Danny flashed his teeth. "The boys want a Flip Cup rematch."

"Oh, you'll lose, no doubt," Kristen shot back. "Can't win everything tonight."

Danny winked at her. "I can try." He gazed around the bleachers, noting who else was sitting there. "The girls are obviously already invited," he announced grandly, like a showman introducing his next act. "The rest of you are welcome to come, too, I guess, since y'all are such a package deal these days."

"We'll see you there, then," Cam responded, not bothering to thank him. His eyes were narrowed on the quarterback's face.

"Great," Danny replied, "should be a fun time."

* * *

ii. _here we are #FootballParty_

* * *

" _Number thirty on the field, number one in our hearts_." Chris grimaced, flicking his gaze from each sign on the Robbinses' porch.

The trees and bushes on the lawn as well as the railings around the home were wrapped in burgundy and navy streamers. An over exuberant cheerleader- it had to be one; no one else would do this- had even painted Danny's number on his front door. His pristine white front door.

"Cherylann is going to _hate_ that." Kemp ran his finger over the zero, wiping the wet paint on the side of his jeans.

"You know his mom's name?"

"She's part of Janice's Book Club," said Kemp. "Or are they part of the same Ladies Association? I dunno. Cherylann is a lovely woman, though. Or she would be if she weren't always digging at me. She thinks I'm a hooligan."

Josh blinked, zooming in on another sign for his Snap Story (probably). "Aren't your parents, like, never home?"

"My dad is never home," Kemp replied, quiet. "My mom is… she's home, but she's not… she's not _home_ , you know?"

They wisely kept their mouths shut.

"This is Massie's handiwork," Derrick pointed out, jutting his chin towards the tiny little football in the window, tied with a bow and covered in glitter.

Cam scoffed.

"They all have to make something for each starting player," Kristen informed the pouty boys, tapping her fingers on Cam's shoulder. "JV does it for the non-starters."

"Sounds annoying," Josh mumbled. "Glad we don't have cheerleaders."

Kemp gasped theatrically. "You don't _want_ this?" he asked, waving his hand around Danny's porch. "Whyever not?"

Claire didn't give them an opportunity to continue the conversation, striding through them. "What's annoying," she started, "is that we're standing out here, looking at _construction paper_ while there's a party going on inside." She twisted the doorknob, pushed against the still-drying number 30, and entered Danny's house.

The music was loud, bass pumping, a drumline rocking the walls. It was dark from what they could see, lit up by neon lights, including an obnoxious sign that read _PLAYOFFS_ as soon as the front door opened.

"Tasteless," Derrick chided, sounding just like his mother, his grandmother, _and_ his sister all wrapped into one.

"Why's she so bitchy all of a sudden?" asked Cam, squinting to follow Claire's hair, the only thing they could still see, as she walked away. "Is it the tequila?"

"No," said Kristen. "It's not."

"What is it then?"

Dylan sidled up behind them, caught Kristen's eye, and shared a significant look. "Well, I'm about to be just as bitchy if I don't get any alcohol in the next five minutes."

"We wouldn't want that now, would we?" Derrick contributed, throwing his arm around the redhead and tugging her into his embrace.

She sniffed imperiously. "Did you _drown_ yourself in your cologne?"

"I wish," Derrick replied. "Death would be better than this."

"If I recall, _you_ are actually undefeated," Dylan reminded him, pulling him into the house. "Don't you wanna get drunker than you already are and rub it in their faces?"

Derrick hummed in agreement. "I have plans to black out so hard I don't wake up until Monday."

"Seems unsafe," Alicia's bubbly, already slightly tipsy voice chimed in from their left. She handed Dylan a personalized water bottle full of some punch the cheerleaders made, her name painted on in swooping cursive in pink glitter glue. "Took you long enough to get here."

Derrick raised an eyebrow. "What the fuck is that?"

"When the cheerleaders are at football parties, we make our own punch," explained Alicia, handing Kristen hers as well. "It's-"

"-super strong," Dylan interrupted, shoving her drink in his face. "Try it!"

"What the _fuck_ ," he said again, swallowing. "Can I have some?"

"No," said Alicia. "You can stick to beer and the football punch like everyone else."

"You," he started, pointing a finger at her, "are the worst person I know, Riv."

She batted her lashes at him, smiling. "That's a lie and you know it, babe."

" _Pleeeeeeease_?"

"No."

"Fine." Derrick unhooked himself from Dylan. "Where's Massie? She'll give me some."

Alicia snorted, in a much better mood now that she and Massie fixed things- or more specifically, clarified things- and retorted, "What makes you think that?"

Derrick smiled broadly, shrugging one shoulder. "I just have a feeling."

" _I gotta feeling_ ," Dylan sang, " _that tonight's gonna be a good night_ -"

"-good _bye_ ," Derrick said forcefully, losing himself in the crowd.

"He's hopeless," Alicia mused, watching him go.

Dylan clinked their bottles together. "You're tellin' me."

* * *

 _interlude_

 _posted 11/23  
_ _ **BOCDSecrets**_ posted a new photo  
 _thankful that you guys snap the best pics and send them to me. here's one of my favs:  
interesting how everyone talks about Alicia getting around when it's really __**mmmblock**_  
 _#TBT #HappyThanksgiving #FakeGossipGirl_

* * *

Leslie Lynn Rubin was probably the nicest of Skye's group of harpies, but she was also the most annoying.

Massie nodded her head at whatever she was saying, wondering if she should have been paying more attention. Alcohol paired with any of the DSL Daters meant they'd spew out secrets more willingly, but Massie found she wasn't that interested. Not in uncovering one of Skye's evil plans (because she definitely had one). Not in the drama.

She had enough of that this past month alone.

So, instead, she slurped at her drink- raspberry lemonade mixed with Grey Goose (and in Massie's case, a little bit extra because she deserved it, _thanks_ )- and answered along, agreeing and disagreeing, making small talk and no talk at all.

She wondered where her friends were. Wondered if they all needed to talk, not just she and Alicia. Wondered if she and Claire needed to air the Cam thing out. Wondered if she had to apologize. Wondered what was wrong with Dylan that made her so sketchy. Wondered why Kristen was acting so normal, but had also been just as twitchy, if not more, than Dylan.

(If she hadn't been thinking of these things, perhaps she would've paid more attention to Leslie and added another wonder to her growing list: _what was Skye doing talking about Briarwood's collapse_?)

But she merely said, "That's annoying, what are you doing about it?"

"Like I've told her over and over, I don't remember anything about it and I think all photos and videos of that night have been deleted, so."

"I think so, too," agreed Massie, watching what she thought was Olivia Ryan giggle at something Plovert said. "At least on my end. We've got nothing."

Leslie looked at her, eyes glazed. "I think she might have something on yo-"

"Hey." Derrick seemed to appear out of nowhere, materializing at Massie's side. "Leslie," he greeted.

The senior chirped a greeting, tucking her hair behind her ear and analyzing him, like she was committing him to memory. Massie wouldn't be surprised if she were creating a mental picture so she could tell Skye all about it later: what his hair looked like, what color shirt he was wearing, how drunk he was, how easy it would be for her to try to get him to kiss her based on the amount he'd already drank...

Massie wrinkled her nose, immediately banishing that last thought, and turned towards him. "Hey."

"Number one: Do you have a second? Number two: Can I have that?"

"Yes," said Massie, sending Leslie an apologetic smile. "To both." She handed him her drink, watched his face light up.

Leslie waved her off, pulling her phone out of her pocket. The screen was so bright Massie was able to see her open up a group chat called _d8rs_.

"Ha," Derrick murmured, more to himself than anything, taking a huge swallow of her drink. "Alicia's gonna hate that I was right."

"What was that?"

"Oh." He handed her bottle back. "She said you probably wouldn't let me drink this. She wouldn't give me any."

Massie thought about it, drinking more. "I mean, historically, I would have said no," she said slowly, "so she _was_ right. In a sense. I'm not quite sure why I offered it to you in the first place…"

And then she was suddenly aware that her mouth was where his had just been.

She swallowed.

"Probably because I'm so beautiful and charming," suggested Derrick. He grabbed for it back and she gave it, frowning at him. "No witty comeback?" he asked when she kept silent, smacking his lips. "Block, I expected better from you."

The world came back into focus. "You're so annoying."

"That one was bad," he told her. "Did you put extra alcohol in this? Dylan's wasn't _as_ strong."

Her only answer was a half-smile that had his heart racing (not that she would know that).

They'd somehow wandered into a semi-secluded party of Danny's house and Massie wasn't sure how they got there, more focused on how his hair was all disheveled, long enough now to get all messy like it used to. And how his gray crewneck sweater seemed to be painted on him, _glued_ to his arm muscles. And how the sleeves were rolled up and she could see that tattoo he got for her, the crown right there. And he was drunk enough that everything seemed to amuse him, his eyes flickering with mischief, and his mouth curled into this perpetual grin-

Massie added another wonder to her list: _was this what Leslie Lynn was going to tell Skye Derrick looked like_?

She held her hand out, hoping more alcohol would clear her head, or, like, rid herself of these thoughts she should definitely not be having… but Derrick didn't give it back to her.

"I might be sharing that with you, but it's _m-_ "

"Massie," he said.

"Yes?"

He tilted her chin up with a finger, making eye contact- aggressive, aggressive eye contact- and murmured, "Are you happy?"

"I mean, sure," she replied, confused. "I haven't been happy at these things since we all started hanging out again, but, like, I'm-"

"I meant in general," he interrupted, still soft-spoken.

"Oh," she said. "Yeah."

Something flickered over his face but she couldn't quite decipher it. He tilted his head back, drank, and Massie reached her hand out to press her fingers to his tattoos. One for each person that meant- or had meant- something to him: his friends, her friends (their friends, really), his family.

Her.

She traced the crown again, just like she had all those weeks ago.

"I know I was bad at saying it," he whispered, "but I did love you."

Massie's mouth went dry.

"And I want you to be happy. I've only ever wanted you to be happy, even when it didn't seem like it." His hand wrapped around hers on his arm. "Also now. I want you to be happy now, even… even if it's-" He broke himself off, licking his lips. "Block."

"Yeah?"

He ducked his head, their noses touching, and hesitated for only a breath before he captured her mouth with his. She felt herself shudder beneath him, opening herself up to him, bringing the hand he wasn't gripping to dig into his hair. He sighed into her, soft and slow and sweet, just like this kiss, just like the guy he wanted to be all the time. She wanted to pull him closer, but maybe also push him away; she wasn't sure, but she sure was disappointed the kiss ended as quickly as it did.

Derrick pulled away, pressing his forehead against hers. "Sorry," he mumbled, "I just wanted to do that again before… before…" He stopped, collected himself, started again. "I want you to be happy and if Cam makes you happy, then… then I'm happy for you. I've definitely said 'happy' too many times, but that's okay, I guess."

He untangled himself from her, squeezed her hand one last time, breathed, "It's always gonna be you, Massie Block," and disappeared back into the party.

He'd left her drink on the floor by her feet.

* * *

iii. _how to be a pretty committee member, step 1: be very good at flip cup_

iv. _Also wtf is Massie wearing_

* * *

"DYLAN! DYLAN! DYLAN!"

"Jesus Christ, I'm gonna vomit," she breathed, swallowing a too large mouthful of punch (because there was no other way she'd play this game) and flicking her fingers _just so_.

"I'll get the bathroom ready for you," Plovert murmured from behind her, tying her frizzy hair back into an elaborate braid. "Or do you need someone else to get you a bag?"

The cup landed perfectly upside down between his two sentences, and somewhere someone cheered for her. Claire raced to drink before Dempsey- it was always Dempsey- managed to get his cup to flip.

Apparently the Pretty Committee vs. Football Team Flip Cup Rematch was a big deal.

Chris's touch on her neck had her biting her tongue, which, luckily, she masked for breathing deeply through her sudden sick feeling. _Remind me not to drink so fast next time_ , she thought to herself.

She was unable to answer him, so he merely brushed his fingers along the baby hairs he couldn't fit into her new hairstyle, waiting.

"I'm headed towards the kitchen if you want me to take her," Dune Baxter offered.

"I can't just _leave_ ," Dylan snapped. "It's a Pretty Committee thing, and I-"

"-I'm here now," said Massie, who also just appeared. Her jaw was set in her disappointed and annoyed face, but she looked better than Dylan felt. "I'll sub in. I didn't play last time."

Dylan nodded once, but gripped Plovert's wrist tightly. He seemed to understand, wiggling his hand so he could hold hers.

"I need water, too," he said to Dune. "Lead the way."

Dune shrugged, deposited a new cup of punch in Massie's hand, and beckoned for the pair to follow him. He easily zigzagged out of the makeshift dance floor, pausing only briefly to tap on someone's head as they kissed some girl, pressed against the wall. They didn't seem to like that.

When they made it into the kitchen, Dune pointed at an empty chair, said, "Sit," and lined up three cups on the counter. Two he filled with water. The other he poured more alcohol than chaser and took a large swig as he handed the juniors their drinks.

Dylan knew she shouldn't chug the whole thing- that wouldn't help with her nausea- but she couldn't help herself. In fifteen seconds her cup was empty and Dune was filling it back up again. Now she only felt sick and too full. _Why was she like this?_

"How are you feeling?"

"I wish you had snacks," she replied.

"We have snacks."

"No," she elaborated, her tongue feeling too big and too heavy for her mouth. "I wish you had snacks like pizza."

Chris chuckled, leaning against the wall.

Dune smiled around his cup, said, "You mean, dinner?" and proceeded to order her to take "tiny sips this time around, Marvil" before he turned his attention to Plovert. "Have a good time, CP?"

 _CP_ was a nickname Plovert used to go by, Dylan remembered, but she couldn't recall why it stopped being a thing.

"Good enough," the other boy replied and Dylan knew he was drinking water just to make her feel better. He didn't sound half as drunk as she felt. "I agree with Dyl, though; you should have pizza."

"Sorry we were unable to make Their Majesties feel at home," quipped Dune and Dylan snorted. "Hey," he added, "congrats on the undefeated season, by the way. Don't think I got to tell you that yet."

"Nah, you didn't," said Plovert, "but thanks. Congrats on your season, too. That sack in the fourth was probably my favorite part."

Dune snickered, crossing his leg. "Those dudes from Hotchkiss are so pretentious, man," he said. "I've been wanting to knock that QB over since we faced them in September."

"Glad you got the satisfaction of doing it, then."

"Your assist was wicked," Dune complimented.

Chris frowned. "You were at the game?"

"Well, yeah," the other said. "It's not every year the soccer team does so well… I'll have to hand it to Harrington- you guys are in phenomenal shape this year. If you don't win I'll eat my own hand."

Dylan slapped her hand on the table. "Chris, deliberately lose. I want to see this."

"D will have my fucking _head_ if I sabotage us," he told her, "though I do think that'd be funny, too, but… sorry."

She sighed in mock misery, bringing her cup to her lips again.

"We're hoping Greyson gets knocked out of the playoffs early," Chris continued, almost like word vomit. Once boys got started on sports, they very rarely stopped. Dylan thought that might make her more nauseous. "I'd really rather not face them again."

"We feel the same way about Halston." Dune placed his half-full cup behind him, crossing his arms over his chest. "You ever face them?"

Chris shook his head. "They've never been that much of a threat- it's Greyson, WPA, and Franklin for us."

"When's your first game?"

"Next weekend. You?"

"Same. Saturday night. Hey, Dylan?"

"Hm?"

"You ever think about being the mascot again?"

" _You were the mascot_ -"

She lifted a shoulder. "Not really," she answered. "Why? You miss me?"

"Whoever does it now-"

"-Meena Osweiler, I think, Layne Abeley's friend-"

"-she's not as fun," Dune finished, giving her his best sad face. He merely looked like a puppy. Dylan told him so. "The boys and I were hoping we could convince you to take it up again. Just for playoffs. You hype the crowd up better than anyone else I know."

Dylan rolled her eyes, making the room spin just a little more. "You guys are good at hype without my help," she informed him. "I watched you today. Don't think I didn't."

"Sorry if I don't believe you, but you always seem to have your face in some magazine every game you come to."

"Keeping tabs on me?"

Dune flashed his teeth in a grin. "Might be."

"Well, cut it out," Dylan simpered, pushing herself out of her seat. She grabbed her water, holding tightly to the cup. A cheer went up in the other room. "I'm gonna see if Massie needs any coaching. She's good at Flip Cup, but not _that_ good. You two continue to talk about sports or whatever boys do. Stop making me more nauseous."

When she passed Chris, he took hold of her elbow, asked, "You good?"

She nodded, drinking more water, and left the kitchen to the sound of Dune shouting, "See you, Marvil!"

Before she was completely out of earshot, she heard Chris: "Was she really the mascot?"

And then Dune: "Oh, yeah, wait until I show you videos."

"You have videos?"

"Yeah," Dune said, as if the thought of _not_ having videos of Dylan as mascot was offensive, "she's the best."

Dylan forced herself back into the fray, thinking too hard and too much about walking straight and correctly, and hoped she'd be able to push herself through the crowd of people blocking her from the game her friends were playing. All she needed to do was get to someone she trusted and she would be okay.

And then she had to remind herself to never drink as much as Derrick did- he was a fucking garbage disposal or some shit like that- and to never agree to play a drinking game once she was aware she was too drunk for her own good.

(Smart rules, but she'd never follow them. This she knew about herself.)

So she shouted _excuse me_ and wriggled her way back to Danny Robbins's dining room, where four starting football players were losing drastically to her four friends.

Massie's shirt was covered in punch but she didn't seem to care, tugging on a jersey that read SOLOMON on the back. One quick look at Dempsey explained that- he'd taken it off once she spilled on herself and was now only wearing the Under Armor he'd worn to the game. Dylan wrinkled her nose; he must be super sweaty. (But he looked really good in it, so, well, it didn't really matter.)

Alicia and Danny were making hardcore eye contact, which… that was gross, probably, but Dylan couldn't remember if it was or not. She just knew she didn't trust him. He was too pretty.

Claire was making that face she sometimes made, unhappy and probably just as drunk as Dylan was. She took this game very seriously, so obviously she'd played all the rounds, and she'd been in a mood ever since Cam sat next to her at the game.

Kristen was the only one who looked her best, hair twisted into a bun at the nape of her neck, clothes in tact, determined look on her face. She was waiting for Massie to finish up her turn, which she did quickly, a matter of seconds before P.J. Levine finished his, and then the game was over, Kristen's cup sliding into the correct position before Danny was able to do anything but bring his drink to his mouth.

"Okay, you're good," the host admitted, "but also this punch is disgusting and I couldn't get it down, so… we'll need a second rematch."

Alicia scoffed. "We"- she indicated to the girls- "got it down just fine, Robbins. Don't be a baby."

"Put those claws away, Rivera," he purred.

"I told you you couldn't win everything tonight," Kristen interjected, forcing his attention from Alicia to her. "I hate being right."

Dempsey snorted. "No, you don't. You love being right."

"And you don't sound apologetic in any way," P.J. added, stacking the dirty cups together. "No need to pretend with us, KGreg, we know you."

"And what is it you know about me?"

"You love to win," he answered, twisting on his heel to toss the cups away.

"And you don't know what'll happen," Danny murmured, running his tongue over his teeth. "I might win later."

"Win _what_?" Kristen demanded.

He looked at her, eyes dancing. "Who knows? The night is young. There are so many other games to be played."

* * *

 _v. I CANT BKEVUIE I GOGT T HIS_

* * *

"I am always amazed by you," Cam declared, opening his arms wide and then wrapping one around Kristen. "Beautiful, smart, very good at drinking games…"

Kristen cackled, shoving her hands against his ribs to shove him away, but he was a rock solid annoyance, so he stayed put. "What do you want, Fish?"

"Uhhhhhhhhh," he drew out the word, "you? To be on every one of my teams for the rest of my life? But mainly will you do me the honor of playing on the same Beer Olympics team as me?"

"Depends," she returned easily. "What country are you and who's already on the team? I refuse to be part of something that is problematic and fetishizes another person's culture- I believe the term I am looking for right now is called 'cultural appropriation,' I refuse to be a part of tha-"

He pinched her cheek to get her to shut up. "We're Russia, and I'm literally just going to wear a shirt that says 'RUSSIA' on it, no problematic appropriation at all…"

She pursed her lips, looking up at him. The neon lights she was certain the DSL Daters put up lit him up like he was standing in the streets of Las Vegas or New York City, painting his face with reds, and blues, and greens. "Who's on the team?" she asked.

"Me and Plov so far," Cam answered. "They won't let us all be on the same team, said it's cheating, and they terribly underestimate Chris, so…" He shrugged, letting a conspiratorial grin spread across his mouth.

Kristen poked at it. "That might be cheating," she informed him, though she wasn't sure.

"I think it's called hustling," corrected Cam, hand swooping up to tug her finger off his face. "And no one has to know if we play it correctly."

She squeezed his thumb tightly, quirking a brow. "I don-"

"Hey," he interrupted, "you know I'm still mad at you, right? For ditching my gig the other week."

Kristen made an indignant squawking sound. "I did not _ditch_ it. That would require previous thought and motive," she retorted, squeezing him again. "I _fell asleep_."

"You're always falling asleep," Cam whined. "Sometimes I think you hate me."

"I do," she responded swiftly. "But you hate me, too, and are only using me for my cat…"

Cam gasped, taking the hand she was holding and placing it over his heart. She could hear it _beat-beat-beat_ beneath her half-formed fist. "I will have you know that I absolutely do _not_ h-"

"Hey, Cam." Derrick's voice was breathless as he appeared in their space, almost too close to Kristen, who now could feel two boys' heartbeats- one under hand, the other at her shoulder. Both seemed to race. "Kristen."

She murmured a greeting, looking past Cam's ear to see if there was someone, _anyone_ around to stop whatever might happen here. She could do her best, but she most likely wouldn't be able to pull Derrick and Cam away from each other…

And there was probably no hoping they would do this civilly, if the look on Derrick's face was anything to go by: closed-off, tight-lipped, eyes swimming with alcohol, but somehow also dead at first glance.

And Cam… Cam was looking at him like he'd never seen him, like he _knew_ what was about to happen and was resigned to it. Kristen had seen that look on Cam's face many a time, particularly when he knew he wouldn't win an argument, when he was backing down for the sake of his relationship with Claire. He'd once said he'd let her win almost every time just so she'd stop looking at him the way she used to, like she was going to cry at any moment, like… like… like she was going to turn around after whatever happened and twist it so the girls- so Massie, Alicia, Dylan, and Kristen- would dislike him even more…

He'd always been worried about what the other girls would think of him.

"Hey, buddy," he said, letting go of Kristen. "What's up?"

She finally made eye contact with Josh, who glanced at the situation and stepped forward.

"Are you happy?" asked Derrick, which was definitely not what Kristen thought he was going to say.

"Um, sure?" Cam replied, frowning. "I'd be happier if we were cool again, though, because I have a lot to-"

"So you are?" interrupted Derrick, reaching out to take Cam's red cup from him. He sipped it, made a face. "You're happy?"

Cam hesitated for a fraction of a second. "I said sure when you asked the first time."

"Right. You did." Derrick nodded. "Well, I just wanted to say if you're happy then I'm happy and I really don't want to ignore you anymore."

"...Me either," Cam said around a startled cough. "I don't like when we fight, D, you're more like my brother than Harr-"

"-I'm not done yet," Derrick said harshly. "Please wait."

"What do you mean you're not _done yet_?" Cam snapped. "And don't tell me when and how I can apologize. I really fucked up this time around and… and I just want you to kno- _what the fuck_ -"

Kristen leapt back, throwing herself into Josh, as Derrick poured the entirety of Cam's cup all over his head.

Cam blinked, and blinked, and blinked, smacking his lips against the sweet taste- he'd stolen half of Kristen's punch- and stared, wide-eyed, at Derrick, who was pressing his mouth into a tight line, shoulders starting to shake.

"DUDE." Cam let out a startled cry, tossing his wet hair away from his eyes. "What the fu- did you learn that from Dylan?"

"I'm crying," Josh whispered from behind Kristen.

Kristen wanted to laugh, but the sound was torn from her when Derrick responded with, "Yeah, and she learned this from me," and _punched Cam right in the face._

" _WHAT_ ," she yelped, body moving on its own accord to somehow break up what she assumed would be a huge fight.

God, if Massie had known it would come to this, she wouldn't have done anything with Cam.

Probably.

Actually… Kristen wasn't quite sure, but she _did_ know she had to stop this. Somehow.

Josh grabbed her before she could jump into the fray. "Don't."

" _Don't_?" she parroted. She never wanted to see Cam and Derrick get into it again, not after that one time in eighth grade… "Why no- wait, are you _recording_ this?"

"Yeah," he said, "it's hysterical."

"Josh!"

"No, listen: look." He nudged her face forward.

There looked like there was a bruise starting to form on Cam's cheekbone, but the boy hardly acknowledged it. It looked like it hurt from where Kristen was standing and she was itching to interfere, to get him some ice, or _something_ , but… but…

But she didn't have to.

Derrick pulled one of those soft ice packs out of his pocket, offering it up. "Here."

Cam took it, eyebrow twitching, and pressed it against the side of his face.

The two of them were silent, staring at each other, until Cam asked, "You feel better now?"

"Yeah. Loads."

"Friends again?"

Derrick scoffed. "Like we ever stopped," he replied and Kristen got déjà vu watching them.

They made friendship look so easy, Cam and Derrick, Massie and Alicia. And it could be, if you were open about your feelings and who you were as a person. If you were self-aware enough to know when you were wrong. If you gave someone enough space to sort out their feelings… If you trusted them explicitly... If... if... she didn't know, but she knew she was most certainly not as good a friend to _anyone_ as these guys were to each other.

Maybe to Dylan, but... not to this extent.

Cam coughed out something like _okay, loser_ , and pulled Derrick into a hug. It was nothing like those bro-things other boys did, slapping backs and pulling away as soon as possible, but a normal hug, with the squeezing and burying heads into necks kind of thing- but don't tell anyone Kristen saw them do that, okay?- and they were whispering things to each other she couldn't hear. It was intimate. It was nice.

"Aw," Josh cooed.

"Maybe _they_ should kiss," Kristen shot at him. She'd seen the start of his Snap Story. She knew what he'd written about Massie and Alicia.

He knocked his knuckles on the top of her head. "Don't give them any ideas, KGreg," he warned. "They're very fragile right now. Who knows what they'd do?"

They pulled apart shortly after, Derrick squinting at Cam's cheek, pressing the pads of his fingers against the darkening spot. "Yikes," he mumbled. "This is a bad one. Do you want to hit me?"

"Yep," Cam answered immediately, "because you're a fucking _idiot_."

" _I'm_ an idiot?"

"Yep," he said again. "Dude, you just have to _talk to me_ , you know that, right? I never would've made fun of you for Massie-"

"-there's nothing there," Derrick defended, frowning. "It's… that ship has sailed, man. Like I said, if you're happy, and she's happy, then I'm happy. Yeah? I'm… like, maturing."

"For fuck's sake," Cam muttered. "Take four steps back, I'm going to punch this fucking stupidity out of you, alright?"

Derrick did what he was told, but still looked confused. "I told you I'm not being stupid, I'm being _mature_!"

"And if you had let me _finish_ before you got all high and mighty, you would've have known that whatever Massie and I were… it's over, D."

"You don't have to do that because I got all into my feelings." Derrick pressed his arms against his sides, digging his fingers into his pants so he wouldn't retaliate to Cam's punch. "If it's what both of you want, then-"

Cam sighed in exasperation, shuffling closer to him. "It _isn't_ ," he hissed. "If it _was_ , I'd still be doing it."

Derrick blinked at him drunkenly.

Kristen felt herself doing the same thing.

"I'm thinking we should leave them alone," Josh whispered into her ear.

 _Yeah_ , she thought, but she didn't want to move either. Something big was happening, something she knew she wanted to hear.

"It was purely physical, by the way," Cam continued, taking the time to crack each of his knuckles. "It didn't… it meant nothing. Do you understand yet?"

"No."

"It never would've lasted, even if you didn't get all into your feelings, which, might I add, you've been in for the past seven months." He quirked a brow, smirking slightly. "Don't look at me like that, Derrick. Even if you don't say anything, I know. I _know_ you. Sadie wasn't… Sadie was a distraction. A bad one, but…"

Derrick wet his lips, focused on Cam's tiny movements. "So you knew this whole time and still went after her?"

"I'm a terrible person," said Cam. "I know. But you didn't say anything, and you were going to sit in this relationship you didn't want to be in if someone didn't do something…"

"So you slept with her," Derrick replied flatly.

"When you say it like that…" Cam chewed on his lower lip, meeting Derrick's now-blazing gaze. "It sounds much worse."

"If you weren't my best friend I'd fucking kill you."

"You were sleeping with Sadie," Cam reminded him. "Don't pretend you weren't."

Derrick blew out a breath. "Yeah. Yeah, I was."

"She likes you, dude," Cam added, "but you've gotta do something about it now. I'm done playing Matchmaker."

"You were _hardly_ playing Matchmaker. You were being an asshole, like usual."

"An asshole who can tell you all the things she likes," Cam smarmily agreed, "all the sounds she makes when-"

"-please just punch me so I can fucking destroy you," Derrick snapped, "and if I hear you talk about her like that _one more time_ I will-"

But his threat was cut off by the flesh of Cam's fist in his eye, and then there was a full-blown brawl between the two of them in Danny Robbins' living room, which would've been more upsetting had they not been complimenting each other on their hits in between insults.

"Huh." Josh clicked his tongue. "I knew there'd be a fight tonight, but I really thought it'd be between us and the football team. Not… not whatever this is." He paused, watching, as Derrick's knee made contact with Cam's stomach. "Do I stop it?"

Kristen would've answered him if she'd been paying attention, but she was too busy searching through her messages.

 _ **Kristen Gregory**_ to _**The Pretty Committee**_ : emergency meeting asap  
 _ **Massie Block**_ : all of us?  
 _ **Massie Block**_ : idk where leesh went  
 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : bathroom  
 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : but i got shit to tell u guys anyways  
 _ **Dylan Marvil**_ : whjet  
 _ **Dylan Marvil**_ : wow  
 _ **Dylan Marvil**_ : where*  
 _ **Claire Lyons**_ : basement is free lmao  
 _ **Kristen Gregory**_ : i dont wanna know why claire knows that but basement it is  
 _ **Massie Block**_ : be there in 10 i gotta find it first  
 _ **Claire Lyons**_ : door by the kitchen bathroom. has the scores from each game on it  
 _ **Claire Lyons**_ : someone show derrick they blatantly ignored homecoming lol its not even on there  
 _ **Dylan Marvil**_ liked _someone show derrick they blatantly ignored homecoming lol its not even on there  
 **Kristen Gregory**_ : and if anyone sees kemp or plovert send them to the living room josh is gonna need help  
 ** _Dylan Marvil_** : help w what  
 ** _Kristen Gregory_** : idek tbh


	16. Glory and Gore

**a/n** : uhhhhh hey guys! sorry this took a month, but i'm mainly lazy and trying to catch up on sleep. idk. there really is no reason. i'm hoping to get out of my funk now that this is going up- i have plans!

also do me a favor and let me know which oneshot you want me to start this oneshot series of mine with. i'm gonna create a poll on my profile. eventually they'll all get done but i need motivation on which to focus on.

let me know what you think and what you want to see. there's always room for suggestion!

xx

* * *

 _You've been drinking like the world is gonna end (it didn't)  
Took a shiner from the fist of your best friend (go figure)  
It's clear someone's gotta go  
We mean it but I promise we're not mean  
_\- "Glory and Gore," Lorde

.

 _ **Derrick Harrington**_ to _**The Pretty Petty Committee**_ : idk where u all went but were leaving lmao  
 _ **Chris Plovert**_ : not in like a mean way  
 _ **Chris Plovert**_ : in a we're hungry for cheese fries way  
 _ **Chris Plovert**_ : so well be at the diner if you need us  
 _ **Cam Fisher**_ : please dont need us  
 _ **Cam Fisher**_ : unless ur kristen. kristen can need me

.

"What the _fuck_ ," Dylan bleated, squinting at her phone. "What the- are you guys reading this? Am I reading this? Why is Kristen the only one allowed to need Cam? Is it only Cam? Or can you need the rest of them?"

Kristen patted a hand on Dylan's knee. "You're asking all the wrong questions, Dyl."

"What questions should I be asking?"

"Well," she started, shooting her gaze over to the closed basement door. They were still waiting for Alicia and Massie. "Are Cam and Derrick over their fight already? And if so, how could they go from punching each other to going to the diner together so quickly?"

From her spot on a red beanbag, Claire suggested, "Probably because they're boys and they don't really spend a lot of time being mad at each other."

Dylan quirked a brow. "Have you _met_ any boys before?"

Claire swallowed a snort and rolled her eyes. "This is specific to Cam and Derrick. What were they fighting over anyway? Josh's sound was off. You were there, right, Kris?"

"Uh, yeah," said Kristen, reaching a hand to smooth her hair, "but it was hard to tell. It was loud and Derrick and Cam were incomprehensible."

"Right," replied Claire, not believing her.

Even Dylan, who often would shut anyone down for talking to Kristen like that, leaned forward and whispered, "You're a terrible liar. I think we all know what it was about. Or _who_."

Kristen pressed her hand into her face, pushing her away. "We can talk about all of that once the others get here. We've got a lot to discuss anyway."

"What do you mean _a lot to discuss_?" Claire asked, frowning.

Kristen avoided her gaze, looking at the steps again. There was a shout from upstairs though it was hard to tell what the reason was. She didn't even know what time it was.

"We spent a week not talking to each other," she explained, licking her lips, "over some shit that, like… we couldn't control. Or, like, didn't know the truth about, you know? I'd really like to maybe, like, air that out so it doesn't happen-"

"-you picked a football party we're all drunk to _talk_?"

"I think it will be easier this way," explained Kristen. "We're always our most honest when we're drunk and… and I have a lot of questions I want to ask."

The other blonde tossed her leg over the other, a sharp movement that caught Kristen's eye, tugged at her defenses. It felt almost like an attack, but she ignored it. It couldn't be possible that Claire would be against talking things out right now, regardless of their state of minds.

"Well," Claire said slowly, brushing her hair behind her ear. "I have some questions, too."

" _Guys_ -" Dylan started, stopped, and gaped at her phone. Clearly she hadn't been paying attention to what could have evolved into a nasty spat right in front of her. "Guys," she said again, "can someone look at this and tell me what you see?"

Kristen held her hand out, eyes still on Claire, scrutinizing, and asked, "What is it?"

"Strawberry's Snap Story."

"Strawberry?" she parroted. "Strawberry as in Coral McAdams?"

"Do you _know_ another Strawberry?" Dylan demanded. "Just. Just look at it."

So Kristen did.

And Claire clamored on the other side of her, smelling of her signature vanilla scent and an odd combination of boy- there were too many of them here, to be honest- and vodka.

They could feel Dylan's eyes on them as they watched, and rewatched, and rewatched-

-until Claire breathed, "Is that _Plovert_?" and Kristen shrieked, "And _Olivia_?"

Dylan gnawed on her lower lip, silent.

Claire watched it again.

"You know," she said, "he does look like a good kisser."

"Who does?" came Alicia's voice from the stairs. The extra set of footsteps as she descended farther into the basement told the other girls Massie was following her.

Kristen blurted, "Chris," as she watched him, in this video, cup Olivia Ryan's face, fingers digging into her flaxen hair. He knew exactly what he was doing, somehow knew exactly what Olivia wanted, had just enough dominance that was… not as controlling as it was hot.

"Give it back," Dylan intoned. There was this whine in her voice she was trying to hide and Kristen ignored it, not wanting to call her out on whatever she was fighting. When her phone was in her grasp once more, she glanced at the video again, locked it, and tossed it on the cushion beside her. "I don't understand why Strawberry would record that, though. She's a terrible friend."

"Josh recorded Derrick and Cam's fight," Claire reminded her.

"He's also a terrible friend."

Alicia wriggled her way into the same beanbag chair as Massie, legs intertwining as they attempted to remain in a comfortable position. "What are we talking about?" she asked. "Why do we think Chris is a good kisser?"

"He wasn't that great when he kissed me," mused Massie, twisting her hair into a fishtail braid at the nape of her neck. "Two out of ten stars easily."

"I forgot you did that!" Alicia shoved at Massie.

"Yeah, and you got so mad at me." Massie giggled. "Do you still use the _Down with Massie_ group?"

"Only when you're particularly annoying," Claire said.

"Which is, uhhhhhhh, all the time," teased Kristen.

" _Guys_!"

"Getting back to the matter at hand," Dylan said loudly, grabbing their attention once more, "Plovert got with Olivia."

"He _WHAT_?"

"He didn't tell me he was even interested in her." Massie frowned, letting go of her hair. It was half-braided.

"Is he supposed to tell you everything?" Claire asked.

"I mean." Massie swallowed, meeting her gaze. "No, but… he normally tells me a lot of things, you know? Like, I just feel like he should have mentioned it. Maybe."

Kristen bit down on her thumbnail, mulling this over. "You know," she began, voice muffled by her finger, "I don't know if this is, like… a case of a him being interested in her. We're at a party, we're all drunk, and, like, things happen. Do you think I was interested in Dempsey when I kissed him?"

"Two things," Claire spoke up quickly, before anyone could answer that. "One: Massie, you don't get to own every boy we're friends with, so stop trying, okay?" Massie's brows furrowed. "Two: Kristen, were you interested in my brother when you kissed him or was it just a case of you two being drunk at a party where 'things happen'?"

The affronted look on Massie's face morphed into something else, something more lethal, and then froze, eyes stuck on Kristen's reddening cheeks.

Dylan blew her own out, sucking them back in like a fish. She remained silent, though her stunned blinking proved she knew nothing about this. Proved Kristen hadn't told her.

"Todd?" Alicia whispered. "Like, _Todd_ -Todd? Claire's little brother, Todd?"

"What is with people and not knowing which person we're talking about today?" muttered Dylan, rubbing her nose with a vicious swipe of the hand.

Massie coughed out, "What do you mean I _own_ the boys?"

"Not now, Massie," Claire all but simpered, which Massie did not like, "we're talking about Kristen. Not everything is about you."

"You _started_ talking abou-"

"-you _kissed Todd Lyons_?"

"It was less of a kiss and more of an extremely heated make-out session," Claire elected to say. She clasped her hands in front of her, resting on her knee. "Isn't that right, Kristen?"

Dylan watched the athletic blonde wet her lips and retorted, "Why are you asking if you seem to already know?" She twitched, not sure if she should reach out and place her hand on Kristen- a comforting gesture to some, but would it be too much given the situation?

Claire wrestled her phone out of her pocket and showed the group a series of DMs on her Instagram. "This is why."

"Are those from _BOCDSecrets_?"

"Is that… is that-"

"The first one is Todd and Kristen," said Claire, "and the second is Massie and Cam. Glad I was the last to know about that one, too."

Massie blinked. "I didn't know about Todd."

"Yeah, neither did I."

Alicia nodded her agreement, eyes wide as she surveyed the pictures before her.

"Oh." Claire smiled, but there was something about it that seemed predatorial, like she was going to eat Kristen up. "Did you not tell anyone? Did you want to keep your relationship with _my brother_ a _secret_?"

"No!" Kristen shouted, red-faced. "Of course I wasn't going to keep him a secret, but… but… he's _fourteen_ and I'm _sixteen_ , and I know how weird it sounds, believe me, okay? And, like, I didn't… I didn't know how to tell you all because… because I was afraid of this reaction."

Claire scoffed. "Did you think I was going to react in any other way? This is my _brother_ , Kristen!"

"You don't even _like_ your brother, Claire," Dylan snapped.

"So?" Claire shot back. "You don't like your sisters, but you'll rip apart anyone who hurts them, right?"

A cackle escaped Dylan's lips before she could stop it. She slapped a hand over her mouth, widening her fingers to say, "If you think I'd defend my sisters in any way, shape, or form, you've seriously forgotten who I am."

"Are you still so butthurt about Kemp Hurley that you dislike your own sisters? Your _blood_?"

"You don't like Todd!" Dylan yelled back. "Don't twist this on _me_ when it _isn't about me._ I don't know why you're so upset about this when you literally told us not even a _week_ ago that you could care less about what he does! You _hate_ your family dinners."

Claire rolled her eyes. "Just because I don't like the things he does doesn't mean I don't like him."

"You've literally said you don't like him," Massie piped in. "I don't understand why you're acting like-"

"-you don't have any siblings, Massie, shut up."

Massie's jaw fell.

"Claire, there's no need to be rude-"

" _No need to be rude_?" she echoed. "Massie _fucked_ my ex-boyfriend!"

"Emphasis on the _ex_ ," Alicia snapped. "You have no claim on Cam. To be honest, you never have."

"This isn't what I meant when I said I wanted us to talk," mumbled Kristen, wrapping her arms around her middle.

Claire raised a challenging brow. "What did you expect, Kristen? You said it yourself: it's easier for us to talk when we're drunk. You just forgot that by being honest most of us are being mean."

"Well, if you want me to be mean and honest, here it goes," Massie started, tone vicious and harsh. "Cam hasn't cared about you since we were fourteen. He's said as much without anyone asking him. He doesn't want anything to do with you. _Get over it_."

Alicia tittered her agreement. "It's a little embarrassing, Claire."

"So is your obsession with Kemp when he so clearly doesn't like you," Claire returned, smirking as Alicia's gaze fell to her fingers. "I know you're not terribly observant or else you'd be able to figure out that _Chris_ likes you, but Kemp isn't even-"

" _Don't_ ," Massie ordered, and even though Claire was angry, even though she wanted to tear each and every one of her friends apart, Claire listened.

"Clearly he doesn't," Alicia said, white teeth flashing against the dark color of her lipstick. "If he did I don't think he'd have kissed Olivia."

"It's like I said," Kristen told her, trying to get the upperhand in the conversation again (she absolutely hated it when blindsided, especially when that blindside came from Claire). "I don't think it's a matter of him liking her or-"

"-why are you so upset anyway?" Claire cut in, blue eyes cutting into Alicia's brown. "Didn't you want to tell us you-"

"-I _hate_ being interrupted," Kristen snapped. "Let me finish what I was going to say-"

"No, Kristen, be quiet."

Dylan gasped at Claire's sheer fucking _audacity_ , head swiveling just a tad to meet Massie's gaze. The amber eyes were crackling with flame, with anger; everyone knew Massie hated when her friends were talked badly to and about. Everyone knew what she was capable of. There hadn't been an instance like this- an instance where the girls were fighting each other- in a long, long time. It was startling. It was unnerving.

"Don't tell me to be quiet. You're not my mother."

"Okay, true." Claire paused, almost as if she was going to let Kristen take over, and then: "I just wanted to point out that we shouldn't be, you know, metaphorically talking Alicia off a ledge. So what if Chris kissed Olivia? So what if this means he doesn't like you? Not every boy has to be in love with Alicia Rivera, do they?"

Alicia sucked her bottom lip into her mouth. "No," she mumbled. "You're right."

"And besides," Claire said, sounding like a friend, sounding like the girl they had all come to love, "didn't you want to tell us how you and Danny got to third base?"

The twinkle in her eye made the hair on the back of Massie's neck stand up. This was not the friend they'd come to know or the girl they'd come to love. This… this was the Claire they'd created when they'd bullied her, when they'd purposely left her out of "PC only" events and activities, when they'd poured _soup_ all over her…

"This still isn't anything I wanted to talk about," said Kristen, but she was ignored.

"How do you know that?" Alicia breathed, hooking her ankle around Massie's as she leaned forward.

Claire shrugged, a tiny little smile playing on the corners of her mouth.

" _Kuh-laire_ ," Massie warned.

"You know, I'm not afraid of that anymore," the blonde said absentmindedly. "The way you used to say my name… it used to terrify me. It doesn't now."

"That's cool," said Dylan, "but you didn't answer Leesh's question. _How do you know_?"

Again Claire shrugged.

Alicia lunged, but Massie grabbed her arms, squeezing her tight, to keep her from launching at Claire. Sometimes- not always- confrontation didn't make Alicia yell or cry; it made her violent.

Kristen looked from Alicia's angry face to Claire's amused, oddly detached one, and retaliated with, "Cam _was_ right: Tequila makes you bitchy."

"You would be too if your friends were keeping things from you," Claire replied. "And Cam was one of those things that was kept from me."

"YOU DON'T HAVE ANY CLAIM ON HIM," Alicia cried out, nails digging into her palm. "And even if you did, maybe you should _do something_ about it instead of _whining_ about it!"

"I don't care if he is or is not mine," Claire shot back, even though that was a lie, even though she did. "I care that we're _friends_ , or I thought we were, and you didn't think it was necessary to talk to me about this! Not one heads up, not one _is this okay_ -"

"It was never meant to be anything serious," Massie said. "It wasn't even… it wasn't even supposed to happen, really. It just… it _did_. And I didn't have a formal sit-down with you all because it didn't matter. It wasn't serious. It was just something Cam and I were doing for fun. It lasted, like, a month, if anything."

"If it's not serious, why are he and Derrick _fighting_ over it?"

Massie paused, eyebrows furrowing. "Derrick and Cam are fighting?"

Dylan nodded. "Josh Snapped it, but there's no sound, so we don't actually know why they're fighting in the first place."

"Kristen does," Claire pointed out, "but she claims not to."

The other blonde rolled her eyes. "Now does not seem like the right time to discuss it," she said.

"So it _was_ about Massie?"

"I never said that." Kristen pushed herself up into a standing position. "I had asked for all of us to get together so we could talk," she told them. "I thought it was important that we aired things out after this terrible week we had, but this is not what I wanted nor what I expected."

She looked at Claire. "I'm sorry I upset you by kissing your brother. I never told you- or anyone- because it wasn't going to happen again. The first time we were both drunk and the second time was a mistake."

" _Second time_?" Dylan all but shrieked. "I've never seen this side of you, KGreg."

"I have no intention of going near him again," she continued, ignoring Dylan's outburst, "and I'm pretty sure he's got the same idea. It's not like he has a crush on me or anything." When Claire remained murderously silent, she added, "I'm done here. If the rest of you want to talk, let me know. I'm going to the diner."

She was halfway up the stairs when Claire opened her mouth again. "Good thing you're the only one allowed to need any of the boys."

Kristen's cackle drifted back down to them, and then her voice, slick and kind of rude: "Actually I'm the only one allowed to need _Cam_." It was like she knew that one would hurt.

The door slammed shut behind her.

There was a brief period of stunned silence; Kristen was incredibly levelheaded and sane- not to say the other girls were not, but she was more in control of her feelings than the rest of them- so for her to exit as dramatically as that was something else. For her to hook up with Todd Lyons (twice!) and keep it a secret was another thing. For her to butt heads with Claire when they were normally so close (so understanding of each other)...

The quiet was broken by a text tone.

 _ **Dylan Marvil**_ to _**The Pretty Petty Committee**_ : am i allowed to need cam too or nah  
 _ **Cam Fisher**_ : nah  
 _ **Derrick Harrington**_ _emphasized nah  
_ _ **Derrick Harrington**_ : lol you're allowed to need me

"You always hated when we fought," Dylan said to Claire, "so I don't understand why you started what you did here. There was no reason to attack us all like that. I get that you're upset but maybe don't take it out on the people who care about you."

"If you cared, you wouldn't have-"

"-save it, Claire," the redhead cut in. "Right now you're right: I don't care about anything you have to say. Talk to me tomorrow when you've gotten over yourself."

She left, too, and Massie shifted, loosening herself from Alicia. "I have more important things to deal with than this right now," she muttered. She pressed the back of her hand to her forehead. "I'm going home."

Massie made eye contact with Alicia, held her gaze, and followed in the direction of her other friends. Both Alicia and Claire knew she'd wait upstairs until Alicia met up with her, regardless of if Alicia was staying or going.

The Latina pursed her lips at Claire, brushing her long hair behind her. "What's up with you?" she asked. Though she was annoyed and mad, she was kind of concerned; she'd blame it on all the alcohol she'd consumed if anyone asked.

"Now you care?"

Alicia coughed around her scoff. "Come _awn_. I always care."

"No," returned Claire. "You used to. All of you used to. Ever since Dylan's birthday party, it's like I've been tossed to the wayside. Even earlier than that, actually."

"You haven't been _tossed to the_ -"

"-when was the last time you wanted to hang out just us?" Claire questioned. "When was the last time we talked without mentioning the boys? Or when was the last time we made plans and didn't assume they would be there?" She picked at the nonexistent lint on her pants. "I listen to you guys discuss how cute they are, which ones you think you like, blah, blah, _blah_ … but the second I want to talk about _Cam_ -"

"Oh my _god_ , Claire," Alicia snapped. "It's not that we don't like you, it's that you're so goddamn _ah-_ nnoying! It's been _years_ "- she clapped out the syllables here- "since you and Cam! No one wants to hear you talk about him because it's kind of embarrassing that you're still this into him, even after all the shit you guys went through. He's nawt some… some _saint_ or someone you should put on a pedestal so take him off of it, alright? He cheated on you with Nina, he admitted he would've kissed me if _I_ didn't chicken out- gawd knows what else he's done to you and you're still over here, all moon-eyed for no reason! You hardly interact! He went after _Massie_! How much more rejection do you _need_?"

Claire's cheeks were so violently red they looked purple. "You're a bitch, you know that?"

Alicia laughed. "That's all you have to say? Are you even listening to me? I'm trying to help you."

"No, you're not," Claire said. "You're trying to make me feel bad. That's all you ever try to do."

"Get it out of your head that I don't like you," Alicia hissed. "Like, you're not my favorite person, but I don't actually want to hurt you." She sighed. "Look, I know what it's like to be into someone who clearly isn't into you. I _know_ Kemp wasn't… isn't…" She swallowed. "If he did, he'd… he'd be talking to me right now, not ignoring me, and that- that hurts, you know? Even if he doesn't like me like that, he is my best friend and… I get it, Claire, and this feeling _sucks_ , and I can't imagine how long you must've felt like this and how terrible it must've been to find out he was fooling around with Massie…"

"Right." Claire nodded. "So you feel bad for yourself now, but you're still using me as the punchline of a joke."

"I'm not _jok_ -"

"Save it, okay? I don't really care how you feel and you don't care how I feel. That's the way we work, isn't it? So you go back to worshipping at Massie's feet and pining after a boy that doesn't want you and I guess I'll do the same." Claire reached over to pat Alicia's knee, palm sweaty against her knee. "Just be careful, alright? I'd hate for anything bad to happen to you."

Alicia frowned, moving so Claire's hand fell flat. "We were a much better foursome than we are a fivesome," she decided, and then, unnerved by Claire as a whole, she bounded up the stairs and back into the party.

.

 **Dyl** 🌼 _ **is typing...**_

 _THIS IS YOUR BACK  
PLEASE SLOW DOWN  
IM LIT RIGHT BEHIND YOU_

.

"Hey, uh, thanks for waiting for me," Dylan grumbled, sliding into a seat between Plovert and Derrick.

Kristen shrugged, slurping at Josh's strawberry milkshake. "Sorry," she said, not sounding sorry at all, "but if I stayed in Claire's presence any longer I was going to strangle her."

The boys looked between each other, Cam quirking a brow at Derrick, who, despite his bruised and (still) bloodied face, smirked knowingly at him.

"I mean… maybe you shouldn't have made out with her brother when you _knew_ she was volatile-"

"-I did _not_ know she was _volatile_ -"

"-hold the front fucking door," Plovert said loudly, dropping his fork. "Kristen, you made out with Todd? _When_?"

"Yeah," Kristen told him. "At the last party. It sort of just… happened."

"He's, like, two years old," Cam mumbled, scooping a hefty spoonful of coleslaw into his mouth. His gaze was hot against Kristen's cheek.

"More like fourteen, but close," Dylan corrected. "Can I have some fries?"

Derrick covered his food with his hands. "How about I order you your own, Marv?"

"How about you save money and share?"

"Since when do you care about saving money?"

"Since when do you _share_?" quipped Kemp.

Cam chewed thoughtfully. "You really made out with Todd?"

Kristen met his gaze, her eyes shining with amusement. "You really slept with Massie?"

Josh coughed, looking at Derrick, who'd quickly averted his gaze. Neither of them noticed.

"Touche," said Cam.

Dylan missed all of this, consumed with trying to steal Derrick's food. "How was your night, guys? Ours was less than stellar, but don't ask me about it; I kind of can't remember."

"It was okay," answered Chris, dousing his burger in ketchup.

Kristen looked away from Cam and watched him for a moment. "Have you seen Strawberry's Snap Story, Plov?"

Josh started giggling.

Dylan ignored that and asked, "Where is Kemp?"

"Yes," mumbled Chris, cheeks reddening. "What an asshole."

"We spent, like, a good five minutes watching it," added Kristen, "if that makes you feel better. Very good kisser. Ten out of ten."

Dylan snorted. "Massie said two out of ten, but alright, butter him up."

"It was a _peck_!" Chris exclaimed. "She can't rate a peck!"

Derrick frowned, kicking at him. Chris mumbled an _ouch_ , silencing himself.

Josh said, "Kemp decided to stay at the party. Said he wasn't hungry."

"Alicia and Claire stayed," said Dylan.

"Alicia stayed?" Kristen questioned.

"Yeah, do you read our text messages?"

Kristen swallowed what was left of the milkshake, smacking her lips. "Sometimes."

( _ **Alicia Rivera**_ to _**The Pretty Petty Committee**_ : im staying jsyk if someone can just be like awake for me when i walk home so i can call them  
 _ **Massie Block**_ : if im up i got u no promises tho  
 _ **Kemp Hurley**_ : im also staying just call me when youre ready to leave  
 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : ok thanks  
 _ **Dylan Marvil**_ : i love u  
 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : i love YOU!)

"I feel like you guys were in great moods before you separated from us," started Josh. He reached over when Derrick wasn't looking, snatched a fry, and shoved it in his mouth. "What happened?"

Dylan scoffed. "Kristen wanted us to talk about something but we never got around to it."

Both Derrick and Cam shared a look.

"Instead of that, Claire attacked us for no reason," Kristen told them. "She went after Josh, she went after me, she went after Dylan. Like… right down the fucking line until I decided to leave."

Plovert tapped his fingers against the tabletop. "Not to defend her or anything, but you did make out with her brother."

"She's mentioned time and time again that she doesn't like him," slurred Dylan. Derrick handed her his water. "She can't just _decide_ when she wants to be on his team or not. Family is family. I know that. I hate my sisters most of the time and that was the reason our reality show didn't take off. They thought they were going to get another _Kardashians_ but Jamie, Ryan, and I… we're not going to be like them. We can't see eye to eye and I've accepted that."

"Is that because of Kemp like Claire insinuated?" Kristen asked.

"Partly," answered Dylan. "That stung, of course, but I've always known they would never pick me in anything. That's the thing when you have a twin. They're your other person and I'm just leftovers. When I said I wouldn't fight anyone for them it was because I knew they didn't need me for that. They'd always have each other."

"They really care about you dating either me or Cam," Derrick pointed out.

Dylan rolled her eyes. "Purely superficial," she told him. "And it's weird because we all know Patrick's going to propose when they're out of college."

Derrick smacked his lips together, making a face.

"Jawlines for _daaaaays_ ," Cam sing-songed.

"We do not need any more Marvil-Harringtons, sorry, babe." Dylan patted Derrick's shoulder. "Ry and Pat will make enough of those."

Again Derrick made a face, looking pale and nauseous. "It's not even like I want to sleep with you," he mumbled.

"I'm pretty sure Dune does," commented Chris.

"Baxter?" Cam asked. "Football team Dune?"

Dylan, looking frazzled, managed to snap, "Why does everyone always need clarification? There is only one Dune at our school and he does _not_ want to sleep with me."

Chris lifted a shoulder. "Just the vibe I got. He showed me so many videos of you as the mascot."

" _The mascot_!"

"Easily found on YouTube." Dylan waved it off. "Next."

"I'm just saying," Chris continued with a teasing smile, "that's the feeling I got from him. If he doesn't want to sleep with you then he's just attracted to you. Nothing wrong with that."

"Nope," Cam agreed. "You are a very attractive girl, Dylly."

"Nice hair," added Josh. "Beautiful eyes. Incredible personality."

Derrick tossed her an unimpressed look. "I don't like anything about you."

"Thank you so much," Dylan said, only to him. "The other three are making me feel like I'm at a family dinner and no one understands why I don't have a boyfriend." Despite her flippant tone, her pink cheeks gave her away- she appreciated what the boys were saying, and what girl wouldn't? These were some of the cutest boys in their grade. In their _school_.

"Okay, but, like, you were the school mascot?" Josh asked.

"Oh my god, yes," Chris answered. "Let me pull up some videos of her. She was amazing…"

"Ooh." Dylan tossed her hair over her shoulder, recovering quickly. "Do continue."

.

 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ to _**The Pretty Committee**_ : wtf you guys  
 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : kemp is walking me home  
 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : save me  
 _ **Kristen Gregory**_ : Ik we didn't talk about your thing with kemp at all but maybe this is good for the two of you  
 _ **Dylan Marvil**_ : Twlk To me about this Tom goodnight  
 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ _likes Twlk To me about this Tom goodnight  
_ _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : if I'm not dead by then sure

.

 _I literally cannot believe you_ , Massie began writing.

She erased it and started again. _The sheer and utter audacity-_

"That's not right either," she mumbled, pressing her thumb a little too hard on the screen.

How difficult could it be to send a strongly worded text message to a boy that forced himself into her space and kissed her? It didn't matter that she liked it; what mattered was it was _unwanted_ and he said _it'll always be you_ or some stupid, romantic shit equivalent to that of Ryan Gosling in, like, _The_ goddamn _Notebook._

 _I cannot stand you_ , she wanted to say, but she couldn't send it. Because that wasn't the truth, was it?

So instead she said nothing, twisting the knob on her front door- weirdly unlocked- and forced herself inside, dreaming of the water she was going to chug. She had never felt so dehydrated in her life.

She was mulling over how proud of herself she was- it wasn't every time she drank that she decided to drink water before bed. Who knew, maybe she'd even take some Advil- when she heard it.

The voices.

One she knew: her mother. The other… it sounded familiar, but she couldn't quite place it-

"Mom, I didn't know you were coming hom-" A pause as her eyes got used to the light in the second living room (or whatever it was they were calling it these days). "EHMAGOD, MOM, WHAT ARE YOU-"

Kendra hastily tightened her robe, previously bare shoulders covered up by white terrycloth. "Massie, honey!" she greeted, smoothing her hair down, flashing a smile like this was _normal_. "I wasn't expecting you for another two hours."

Massie's eyes darted to the clock on the wall. "It's one in the morning."

"Your father says you often come home late on weekends, if you even come home at all…"

There was a cough from behind her. Massie couldn't help the sneer on her face as she took in Liam, their twenty-something gardener with the nice back muscles- sue her, okay, _she_ was allowed to look- still on his knees on the floor. Couldn't be bothered to get up, she guessed.

"Yeah, really looks like you're talking to Dad right about now." Massie flicked her fingers in annoyance. "Are you fucking the _help_?"

Liam made this offended little noise in the back of his throat. Massie didn't care.

Kendra's eyes- the same ones Massie had- flashed and she stalked forward just a step or two, careful to grip the middle of her robe. Massie did not want to know what was (or was not) under there. "Are you drunk?" her mother shot back.

"If I was before, I'm not now," the teenager spat. "Your turn."

"Massie Lynn Block, I'm disappointed in you." Kendra crossed her arms over her chest. "Coming home at all hours of the night, drinking alcohol underage… It's clear your father is doing a poor job of raising you on his own. Maybe I should press pause on the modeling for just a bit."

Massie fought a scoff; as if her mother would ever consider settling down to actually raise her. She couldn't even handle the recommended time after birth to get acquainted. That was why Massie was so attached to Inez instead.

"You're disappointed in me? _I'm_ disappointed in _you_! Dad doesn't deserve this. Not after everything he's done for you. I'm… I'm gonna go get him," Massie warned, twisting on her heel.

It was Liam who spoke before she could leave: "He's not here."

"What makes you think you're allowed to talk to me?" she hissed. To her mother, she demanded, "Where is he? Surely he wouldn't allow…"

"Your father doesn't have to allow anything," said Kendra. "And if you must know, he's on a business trip. He left this afternoon."

"He didn't tell me that."

"He doesn't have to tell you everything, sweet pea. He's your father, not your friend. Now hurry along upstairs. I'll decide on your punishment in the morning." She shook her head sadly, like she had no idea who her daughter was. "I can't believe you really thought you could sneak home like this."

 _I've done it time and time again_ , Massie thought snidely.

"I can't believe you'd do this, so I guess that makes us even."

"Upstairs," Kendra ordered. " _Now_."

"No." Massie laughed bitterly, fixing the strap on her bag; it was digging into her shoulder. "I'm not staying in this house with you in it. Not after this. I may not have liked you before, but I most certainly hate you now. Have your little boy toy leave a bouquet of flowers or some other tacky romantic gesture on the stoop when you've decided to jet off to Aruba or Tokyo or Buenos Aires and conveniently forget you have a daughter. I'll be elsewhere."

" _Massie Lynn_ -"

"Next time use your brain and cheat on my father in one of the guestrooms, not the first floor living room!" Massie shouted.

She thought she heard footsteps following her and she bolted, not wanting to get caught, not wanting to be forced to stay now that her entire house seemed tainted and unappealing. She could hardly get her mother's half-naked form out of her brain, could hardly stop thinking about _why_ Liam was on his knees in front of her in the first place.

It made her nauseous.

It made her… it made her- _oh no_.

She vomited right there in one of Liam's rosh bushes. _Serves him right_ , she thought, staring at the way her pink vomit coated the brittle, dying branches. It shimmered in the moonlight. It was sort of poetic, but mostly disgusting. Just like the bush.

Massie wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and scurried away again, just as the hall lights turned on inside.

She'd always known her mother was only in this marriage for the name- being a Block meant something in America- and the connections and the money. It was a well-known fact of Westchester, really, one of those things everyone kept on the DL because it was kind of embarrassing and no one wanted the scandal. It was like Olivia Ryan's nose jobs, or Merri-Lee Marvil's obsession with fame (at the risk of exploiting her own children), or Dick Hurley's absenteeism and Janice's subsequent neglect of her son. It was _there_ , always lurking, never mentioned. Covered up if need be.

But her mother… it was one thing to know this, to speculate. It was another to see it right there in front of her.

A loveless marriage, sure, but Massie had truly, honestly thought it had meant something. A small thing, if any. Apparently she was somehow jaded, cynical, _and_ naive, though she wasn't sure how she managed that combination.

Teeth chattering and hands shaking, she turned her attention back to her phone. The screen was still open to her conversation with Derrick, and while she was still annoyed he hadn't thought to text her a quick apology, she couldn't dwell on that aspect of her life right now. It seemed like years ago- eons, even- that he'd kissed her and ditched her. It was still stupid and invasive and she still had so many questions that needed answers- that _required_ them, really- but it would have to wait. It wasn't important anymore.

She spent too long searching through her contacts for the name, but she found it, opting to call instead of type out a message that could potentially be missed. Once upon a time she knew this number by heart, would have been able to type it out in her sleep, with amnesia, while half-dead, but now…

She'd get back into the swing of things. Eventually. Probably.

It'd go on her To Do list. That was the best she could do right now.

"Hey," she greeted when he finally picked up (fourth ring. Asshole). She hoped her voice didn't sound as shaky as she felt, but A) she just discovered her mother and the _fucking gardener_ and B) she was walking alone at, like, one thirty in the morning. "Is your mom up? Are you still at the diner? Is your spare key still in the flower pot by your porch?"

"Uhhhhh… why?" Josh asked. "Are you okay?"

Massie rolled her eyes, turning down the street that would get her to his house fastest. "Clearly not if I'm asking about _your spare key_. I really don't want to break into your house tonight."

"You know, a smart person would just ring the bell and wake up my mom if it's an emergency," Josh told her. "She'd understand."

"I am nawt waking up your mom," Massie said definitively. "I'll just scale the side of your house and climb in through your wind-"

"Where are you? I'll meet you and let you in myself."

She took a quick look around. "I'll be on the corner of Lenox and Main. Actually," she decided, "I won't be. I'm going to keep walking. I'll meet you at the diner."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. Just… don't hang up on me, okay? I'm by myself."

" _Massie_!"

"I know, I know."

"I thought you were going home."

She blew out a breath, closing her eyes for a moment to center herself. "I was. Well, I did. It's just… it's a long story, actually."

"I've got time."

"I'm not telling you it as I walk to the stupid diner," Massie unintentionally snapped. "I'd much rather talk when we're all cuddled up in your bed with hot chocolate."

Josh chuckled. The sound warmed Massie all the way down to her toes. "Fine," he said, "but that doesn't mean I like the way you sound right now."

She gasped, but the amusement was only half there. "You don't like the sound of my voice?"

Seriously: "You know what I mean, Mass."

"Yeah," she agreed. "Look, I'm almost at the diner. If I speed walk I will be there in approximately… seven and a half minutes."

.

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.

She pressed her legs harder, trying to force herself away from him.

 _Stomp, stomp, stomp-_

But he was taller, he was stronger, he was faster: Kemp managed to become her shadow, right at her heels, following her every move.

She could feel his footsteps, hear his labored breathing. There was a purpose to each move he made, a statement, a question in each twist of his body. Alicia ignored it all- ignored _herself_ and how badly she seemed to want to speak to him- and pushed herself farther into a fast shuffle, turning down the road and closer to her house.

Twenty minutes closer, that is, but in her drunken state she knew it would be quicker than that.

"Leesh."

She remained tight-lipped, blurred gaze focused on her feet- now the cheerleading sneakers plus sexy black romper didn't seem _so_ unappealing- trying to make sure she didn't trip over a rock or, like, her laces.

"Ali."

Her phone lit up with another Instagram notification. She hardly spared it a glance.

"Are you really not going to talk to me?" Kemp reached out and attempted to grab her wrist in an effort to stop her, but Alicia was quicker. She swung it out of the way just in time.

"You want to talk to me now?" she questioned. "Had enough time to sit and think about what you'd like to say to me?"

Kemp sighed. "Alicia, you know how hard this is for-"

"-for you?"

"I was going to say for us." Kemp sped up, unfairly long legs and an endurance from years of soccer training propelling himself ahead of her. He was blocking her path now, a steady force, one she knew she couldn't get past. "I hate upsetting you. You know I hate upsetting you."

Alicia licked her lips. "That's incredible given the fact that you constantly upset me."

"Name a single time besides my ignoring you after blacking out and hooking up with you." He crossed his arms.

She opened her mouth, but he cut her off: "And don't mention anything before this year. We already aired that out."

"If you call getting off our faces in Maddie's dad's office ' _airing it out_ ' you are sorely mistaken. That was." She paused, considering. "That was nothing. A game. Nothing got solved then. No one-"

"Massie and Derrick," interrupted Kemp, earnest. "They came out of that and they were… they were different."

Alicia swallowed a laugh. He really thought he _knew_ Massie. Sure, Massie and Derrick stopped avoiding each other but they still made things weird. Awkward. Whether it be through eye contact or the shifting of seats or stilted conversation… Nothing changed. Nothing at all. There was just no more animosity.

"Sure," she allowed. "One group of people. But let's discuss you and Dylan: you two can hardly interact even after you apologized, which, to be honest, I think was incredibly insincere-"

"I don't want to talk about anyone but you, Al," Kemp hissed through gritted teeth. "You're my _girl_ , you've _always_ been my girl-"

"And that's the issue! I _want_ to be your girl!"

Kemp frowned. "You already are?"

"No," she said, firmly, decidedly. " _Your. Girl._ " The possessive tone in which she wrapped around the two words was deliberate, was enough to have Kemp blink in confusion. "I. I thought we were on the same page; we usually are."

"We usually are," he repeated, looking forlorn. "I thought it was just a drunken thing, Leesh. I thought-" He reached out again.

She sidestepped him. "Please don't touch me."

He let his hand hang uselessly between them. "I thought we were just doing something we never have. Something everyone already thought we did."

"You thought I kissed you because our whole school thinks we've already fucked?" Alicia coughed in disbelief, eyes clouding. "You thought I would do something- something so _significant_ because of a few opinions of our peers? What the _fuck_."

"How was I supposed to know it was more than just a- just a fling?"

"Because I was obvious!"

He snorted. "No, you were Alicia and you treated me how you treat Derrick, and Cam, and Josh." He scratched at his ear. "You kiss their foreheads and wrap your arms around them and ask them to be good boyfriends and get you tea, or more mustard, or the notes from fifth period."

"It was _different_."

"Maybe to you it was, but to me, you were just flirting. That is what you do, Ali: you flirt. You get what you want and you flirt." He looked at her intently, capturing her like a moth to flame with his gaze. "That's what you're notorious for; that's why you have so many connections. Sorry for not seeing through it. I clearly don't have the ability."

Alicia gnashed her teeth together. The condescension in his tone rubbed her the wrong way, partly because she was drunk and partly because he was so fucking dense. She focused on this instead of the sinking feeling in her stomach, the one that had always warred with her heart, that always sided with the (tiny) more rational part of her brain.

(He didn't like her. It was hard to believe he didn't when she had liked him so much, but.)

"Alicia?"

In the yellow of the streetlight, Kemp looked like a modern day Greek god. But he always looked that way: defined cheekbones, smooth, dark skin, a jaw that would make Michelangelo weep. His shoulders were broad- as broad if not more so than Derrick's- and they made the material of his shirt cling to those muscles like it'd been painted on. Everything about him was so goddamn attractive and it was. It was _infuriating._

He might not know her anymore but she never stopped knowing him, so she blurted, "You like someone else."

Kemp never dropped her gaze, but it flashed with something, with a shocked awareness of sorts. "I wouldn't… it's- no," he decided on. "I wouldn't say I do."

 _I wouldn't say I do_ sounded a lot like _yes_ to Alicia.

"Is it Massie?" she asked. "It always seems to be Massie these days."

She hoped she didn't sound bitter but every time she blinked Massie was kissing Plovert, or getting off in backseats with Cam, or actively ignoring Derrick's not so secret crush. And now she probably caught Kemp's eye because she was not as annoying, not as obvious, not throwing herself at him. She was funny. She was witty. She was smart. She was close to him.

But Alicia was prettier! (And she hated that she thought it.)

Kemp laughed. "No, it's not Massie."

"Then wh-"

"It's no one," he insisted. "I don't like anyone."

"You don't like me," she reiterated.

Kemp stepped forward, like he wanted to touch her, to hug her. She shook her head, shuffling back. "Al, I always like you," he told her sincerely and it was that sincerity she wanted to slap off his face. "I just don't like you like that. I wish I did." He shoved his hand through his hair, the flush from the alcohol deepening in his cheeks as the temperature continued to drop. "Fuck, Ali, I _wish_."

"Wishing gets you nowhere unless you have a magic lamp," Alicia said. "Thank you for walking me this far. I can get the rest of the way."

"It's almost three," Kemp told her, "and you're still far from home. I can't just let you-"

"Do not finish that sentence."

Kemp swallowed. "Let me walk with you," he tried instead, "or consider staying at my place. It's basically like no one is home. My mom's probably passed out on Percocet."

Alicia shook her head. "I will walk by myself and sleep somewhere you are not."

"Alicia, please."

"No," she said, turning on her heel. She let out the breath she'd been holding the whole time with her back to him, her tense shoulders starting to shake.

Her house was twenty minutes away. Fifteen, if she speed-walked. Maybe ten if she threw all caution to the wind and sprinted.

There was a ghost of a touch on her back. Kemp's fingers. She stiffened.

"Will you let me know when you get home?"

"If I remember," she forced out.

Kemp sighed. "Please remember. I don't want to have to spend all night thinking you're dead in a ditch."

"Fine," she decided, because it was common courtesy. "Now I would like to go before it ends up being four. My parents might notice if I stroll in when the sun starts to rise."

"I don't think the sun rises at four."

Alicia rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean. Goodbye."

Kemp watched her go, there at the corner, and called, "Don't take the shortcut! Stay on roads with lights!"

Alicia acted as if she didn't hear him, but she did, and she would listen to him. It was just that she couldn't talk around the tears she was shedding. If she opened her mouth she knew she would let out an embarrassing sob, and if there was one thing she didn't want it was to cry in front of Kemp Hurley.

So she marched forward, head held high, hair swaying and lip quivering.

.

 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : home  
 _ **Kemp Hurley**_ : good  
 _ **Kemp Hurley**_ : want to get bagels tomorrow  
 _ **Alicia Rivera**_ : idk let me sleep on it

.

 _ **Josh sent you a Snap!  
**_ _I forgot how much this dumb cat liked massie_


	17. Cool Girl

**note:** i've been gone forever, i know, and i apologize. my life has been in shambles since we've last spoken and i spiraled for, like, a whole month, but here i am. this is a shorter update than usual, but y'all deserve at least something from me. you'll get a better one soon. and it won't take three months, i swear.

i did not edit this at all, so lemme know if you see any mistakes! thank you xx

* * *

 _I'm a cool girl  
I'm a  
I'm a cool girl  
Ice cold  
I roll my eyes at you, boy  
_\- "Cool Girl," Tove Lo

* * *

 _ **Massie Block**_ : hi dad, didn't know you were going away this weekend. If mom calls im fine, we just got into a little fight and i went to joshs. Call you tomorrow xoxo

.

 _ **Kemp Hurley**_ : Missed Call

.

 _ **Kemp Hurley**_ : gym?  
 _ **Kemp Hurley**_ : dude its 930 your hangover should be gone by now  
 _ **Kemp Hurley**_ : whys mik dressed so nice at 945am where she goin  
 _ **Kemp Hurley**_ : whatever im gonna go HARD for leg day ur loss

.

Layne strummed her guitar, eyebrows knit at the papers in front of her.

Cam's lyrics were… they were a mess, to say the least. But they always were: they were a vomit free-for-all of emotion, or they were the closest thing to it. Cam very rarely expressed (serious) feelings for anything these days. Had stopped doing so since… since around the fourth breakup with Claire, when the lovey dovey songs turned to angsty, indie bops and the candies and personalized gifts became a thing of the past.

But this… as terrible as it was and very similar to _Carolina_ by Harry Styles, it was the first time Layne had seen anything so reminiscent to eighth grade Cam since… well, the eighth grade, when he coerced her into starting this band.

They needed a lot of work, but it was work she could - work she _would_ \- put in.

You know, after she answered her phone.

"'Lo," she greeted, trying to follow along with Cam's notes. She shook her head, scribbled a few out, attempted to find something else.

"Are you busy?" Claire asked.

Layne hummed. "Working out the kinks in this son-"

"-okay, so you're not," interrupted Claire, "because you will _not_ believe what happened to me last night."

 _I mean, I am busy,_ Layne thought, _but whatever_.

She kept her guitar in her lap, pressed her palms to the back of it. "What happened?"

"We went to the football party - they, like, are going to the championships or something, I don't even know - and basically it was, like. It was a shit show."

"Understandably so," Layne commented, skimming the lyrics again. She let Claire talk on while she crossed out certain words and replaced them with others, making the song sound - _competent_ , to put it lightly.

" - and they - they _attacked_ me! For no reason!" Claire was saying, that Valley Girl lilt in her voice coming out as she ranted. Layne paid no mind to it; if she were being honest, she was paying more attention to Cam's song than anything Claire was saying, which - which was the case more often than not when the girl was complaining about the Pretty Committee.

"Sounds like you started it," Layne returned easily, changing part of the chorus' musical arrangement. "There's really no reason for you to go aft-"

" - are you on their side?" Claire demanded. "Of course there was a reason to 'go after them,' even though that's totally not what I did."

Layne rolled her eyes, glad Claire hadn't thought of Facetiming her instead. "You were drunk, Claire," she reminded her. "You always get… combative when you're drunk. I'm sure you didn't need to say any of those things, and you didn't really mean them, and the other girls were just reacting to what you were saying. You were always really good friends, even when you weren't."

Claire was silent on the other end. "Massie deserved it," she said finally.

"Maybe," Layne started off slowly, "but you also need to take a step back and blame the boy too. It's not solely the girl's fault and as a society we need to -"

"- drop the feminism thing right now, Layne, it _is_ the girl's fault too, especially when she's your friend - "

" - _Claire_ ," Layne snapped. "I get that you're upset about this, and you have every right to be" - _not really,_ a snide voice in the back of her mind hissed, a rather unfriendly voice that reminded her of both her mother and her older brother's girlfriend - "but take a step back, okay? I will be the last to admit that Alicia is right about literally _anything_ but… she's right. About this." Layne paused, licked her lips, zeroed in on the way Cam waxed fuckin' poetic about somebody's bottle-green eyes. _Who the hell_. "Massie should have told you, yes, but she… she wasn't in the wrong. I mean, maybe she was, but that doesn't mean she was obligated to leave him alone."

"I really thought you would have been on my side here."

"I'm always on your side." Layne tugged at her braid. "Name a time when I wasn't. You can't, because there was literally never a time when - "

" - when you ditched me for Massie in seventh grade - "

" - when _you_ ditched me for Massie, uhhhhhhhhh, every other time besides that?" shot back Layne. "Look, Claire, you asked for this. All the shit you call to complain to me about? It's a byproduct of the popularity and acceptance you so desperately want."

"Layne - "

" - no, listen to _me_ for once. You call me every weekend to cry about how you're the victim that it's like I'm living a freakin' Taylor Swift song every Saturday morning. You used to be better than this. You used to - to - _stand up for yourself_ and… and ditch Friday night sleepovers and spa days and froyo after school to hang out with me. Now… now I'm just an afterthought, a person you call because you know I will listen, and fight for you, and tell you all you want to hear, but… but I'm sick of it, Claire. It's been _years_ of this, and - "

Claire interrupted her with a rude _shush_ and retorted, "You knew."

"Knew _what_?" Layne asked, blood boiling. She hated getting interrupted, especially when she was talking about her feelings.

"About Cam and Massie." A beat. "You're in that dumb band with him."

"It's not dumb," defended Layne, "and I didn't know anything."

"Right."

"Even if I did, it wouldn't have mattered because Cam doesn't matter. Not to you. You haven't bothered with him since he broke up with you that last time. In fact, the only time you wanted anything to do with him was when Alicia dragged the boys back into your circle."

"You had a hunch, then?"

"You're being obsessive," said Layne. "I am not a boy whisperer. I only see Cam like three times a week and I do not sit him down and ask about his love life."

"And you couldn't figure it out? By the music, or his attitude, or - " Claire broke off. "They all seemed to know about it, which means they knew that I still had - that I still… that Cam - "

" - honey, everyone knows. It's obvious. And Cam loves attention, so of course he would capitalize on it."

"It's not obvious," Claire mumbled. "And I would have just liked it if someone had fucking _told_ me about it so I didn't look like an idiot."

"Okay, then tell Massie that, not me," Layne told her. "There's no reason for you to treat _me_ the way you want to treat her. I didn't do anything to you. Call me back when you actually want to be friends with me, alright?"

And Layne did the one thing she hadn't done in quite some time: she hung up on Claire.

It wasn't that she didn't love Claire; she did. She was the closest thing she had to a sister, but in that sense she also couldn't stand her. Claire made terrible decisions, closed herself off to her emotions, and refused to stand her ground when things upset her. She had stripped herself of everything that made her interesting when she moved here, of the perseverance and the integrity that made Massie Block fear her (and Massie feared nothing and no one). It was exhausting listening to her cry over her friends, and boys that didn't matter, and Cam, who especially did not matter, and Layne was sick of it. Sick of being the backburner friend, who Claire used only when she was fighting with the Pretty Committee. Because when it came down to it, Layne would never be good enough for her. Claire wanted the Pretty Committee. She wanted to be well-liked and popular, even if she was miserable.

Layne didn't want any of that. She was happy the way she was, protesting the wrongs of the world, performing in a "stupid band" with a (very popular) boy, avoiding most parties and school sporting events. She did not sign up to be the A-List's therapist.

She sighed, rolling the annoyances of that conversation off her back, and brought her attention back to the sheets of paper in front of her.

The song was half-edited when she realized who it was about.

.

 _ **Dune Baxter**_ : hey it's dune  
 _ **Dune Baxter**_ : dune baxter  
 _ **Dylan Marvil**_ : lmao theres only one dune in our whole school  
 _ **Dune Baxter**_ : eyeroll emoji  
 _ **Dune Baxter**_ : just wnted to make sure you were alive after ln  
 _ **Dylan Marvil**_ : hearts still pumping that blood unfortunately  
 _ **Dune Baxter**_ : tragic

.

Massie dumped far too much sugar in her coffee - like so much that it would ultimately make the whole thing taste terrible and probably make her break out in that one spot on her chin - but she could not find it in herself to care. She took a long sip, wrinkled her nose at the taste, and drank some more.

Across the table from her, Josh watched her carefully.

Too carefully.

It was kind of annoying.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She quirked a brow, stirring her coffee. "About what, exactly?"

He smacked his lips together, fingers twitching. "Any of it."

Because there was a lot to unpack, she supposed.

From her dad, to the Derrick thing - which, of _course_ she told him, word vomit was what happened when you decided to add more alcohol to an already drunken, terrible night - to the Claire debacle, to the -

To everything that happened in the past two months.

 _Two months_.

Jesus.

"No," she decided finally.

"No?"

"That's what I said." It was bitchy, yeah, but she didn't want to discuss what she'd been reflecting on at length at this table, in her dreams, on the walk to the diner.

She'd bumped into Derrick far too soon last night because Josh took too long to leave the table, and she made awkward eye contact with Cam, and the two of them were bruised because of _her_ , probably. The angry draft of her text burned a hole on her leg, where her phone was sitting in her lap, and she couldn't find it in her to send it, to send _I don't know why you kissed me you had no right how dare you_ -

Because how did she feel? She didn't know.

And now was still not the right time to dwell on it. Not when her father still hadn't answered her text, and her mother was probably blowing the gardener again, and Claire was out to get her (if her subtle retweets on Twitter were any sign).

"Alicia and I still haven't talked," she said instead, glancing out the window. The trees were dying, leaves covering Josh's front lawn and making her sad and nostalgic again. She hated autumn.

"You talked at the game."

Massie let out a huff. "That was hardly talking. That was… surface level, insignificant. There's obviously a lot we need to tell each other, and…" She shrugged, pressing her lips into a thin line. "I don't know. That's what I'm most concerned about."

" _That's_ what you're most concerned about?" asked Josh, stifling a yawn. "Alicia?"

"Yeah. I guess it's silly compared to everything else but I don't want two of my friends to hate me."

"Are you planning on talking to Claire?" Josh shifted in his seat, reaching forward to grab one of his mom's homemade cinnamon buns. "Like, about the Cam thing?"

To avoid an immediate response, Massie brought her mug to her lips and drank deeply. Did she want to talk to Claire? Was it even worth it? She didn't know.

"I don't know," she admitted. "I mean, I know I fucked up and that I should apologize, or - or talk to her, at least, but… I also feel like I shouldn't have to. When was the last time Cam and Claire were even a thing? She… doesn't own him. The same way I didn't own Derrick, when they - when he and Dylan made me take my claim off of him." She tugged her lip between her teeth. "I _had_ to do that, but why doesn't Claire? Why does she think that after all these years of _not_ talking or interacting with him she can just - just decide he's hers?"

"A valid point," Josh said slowly, "but you've been friends with Claire for years, and you know how sensitive she is, yeah? Maybe… maybe you should tell her this. You know, instead of me?"

A beat of silence as she mulled it over. "You're right," she murmured. "We've been through a lot. I'm sure we can get through this, too, right?"

"Most definitely."

" _Not now, Massie. We're talking about Kristen. Not everything is about you."_

" _-Massie, shut up."_

The real question was: did she want to?

It wasn't something she wanted to dwell on, the intricacies of her friendships and the way she may be pulling away from some. Outgrowing others. Still, she wouldn't be herself if she didn't try, so she sent a quick text to Claire ( _dinner later? My house?_ ) and immediately put her phone on mute because she didn't want to know when she responded.

(She hated waiting, but we all knew this.)

She met Josh's gaze, watching him chew. His attention was elsewhere, a relief to her whirlwind of emotions - and her hangover - his head ducked as he checked his phone, the thumb of his right hand stretching to reach all of the keys on his screen. There was something interesting about the way his face looked, about the quirk of his lips and the flush of his cheeks.

"Who are you talking to?" she asked.

Josh started, dropping his cell with a clatter next to his plate. "Um. Kemp," he said. "He's mad I was asleep when he went to the gym."

"Ah." Massie nodded, dipping her toast into her coffee. "As if I would go to the gym with the two of you. Who does he think I am?"

"Kristen, maybe?" Josh suggested. "She went to the gym with him once."

"Yeah, she regretted it immediately," replied Massie. "Something about his weightlifting."

"He's very particular about arm and leg day," agreed Josh.

Massie let her soggy toast settle on her plate, wiping her fingers on her napkin. "I don't remember you and Kemp being close before w- you know, before. Has it always been that way?"

"Um, no." Josh picked at his nail bed. "Not when we were all a group. You guys and us. It was always Derrick and Cam or Kemp and Plovert or sometimes me and Cam. I was normally the odd one out, which… which, I guess, was why I was so, like, into Claire at the time because - because she got it." He spared a glance at his thumb, dug his nail into his skin. "Sometime when we realized we could still be friends while having other interests besides soccer our friendships stopped being so set in stone."

"So boy friendships are the same as girl friendships?"

"We say a lot more gay stuff to each other," Josh told her, "but yeah. Friendship makes the world go 'round. Or something."

"And now you and Kemp are two peas in a pod," Massie mused aloud. "Kind of weird. You two are so different."

"Sure," Josh agreed, "but aren't we all different?"

"I suppose you're right."

His text tone interrupted them, though Massie was running out of things to say about this particular topic, and Josh tugged his lip between his teeth for only a millisecond before letting it go. He swiped his iPhone off the table, unlocking it and responding, thumbs flying across the screen so quickly they bumped into each other.

A deliberate noise behind him made Massie look up. Josh's mother, Grace, stood in the kitchen doorway, loudly washing what looked like an already clean pan, and when she met the younger girl's gaze, she mouthed _Kemp?_

Massie hid her smirk behind her mug.

.

 _ **Massie Block**_ : dinner later? My house?  
 _ **Claire Lyons**_ : sure

.

"Hey. I've been ditched left, right, and center today, are you home?"

"Yeah."

"Cool, I'm on your porch. Open the door."

"Are you fucking kidding-" Cam swung his front door open, phone balanced precariously on his shoulder. "What would you have done if I wasn't home?" His voice echoed in Kemp's ear, tinny on the phone and boisterous right in front of him.

"Pam would've let me play Fortnite in your basement," said Kemp, clicking his phone off.

Cam quirked a brow. "She most certainly would _not_."

"I would," Pam called from the kitchen. "Kemp, honey, would you like to stay for dinner?"

Kemp shot Cam a smirk and answered back in the affirmative, toeing his shoes off at the door. Cam rolled his eyes, whacking his friend's shoulder as he entered.

"So what's up?" Cam asked as they settled into the beanbags in the aforementioned basement. He fiddled with the TV remote, breezing through his list on Netflix, trying to figure out what to watch.

"Nothing much. Just wanted to hang out."

"You say that like you didn't just admit I'm, like, your fourth choice."

Kemp sighed, squinting at the description for _Arrested Development_. "Okay, that's true"- Cam shot him the side eye- "but not in a - in, like - okay, look, I asked Alicia to get bagels with me this morning and she bailed, and Josh didn't wake up to go to the gym, and Plov sent me straight to voicemail, I _know_ he did, and, like, getting ignored like that really tears down an ego, you know?"

"Not to be not on your side or anything, bro, but you did Alicia dirty. Of course she didn't want to get bagels."

"I did not _do her dirty_." Kemp scoffed. "It's not my fault I blacked out-"

"-yeah, man, it kind of is?"

"-and it's not my fault she had no idea-"

"-nothing about you changes when you black out," Cam reminded him. "It's always hard to figure out where you're at because there are no warning signs unless you vomit, which you rarely do."

Kemp pressed his lips together and breathed in deep, watching the cold open of _The Office_ without it really registering in his brain.

Sure, blacking out was technically his fault, and who knew what he said to her that made her think kissing him was a good idea? He could have said _anything_. Literally anything. It turned out Alicia had a huge crush on him - who knew, right? - and she was so… what was the word? She relied on guy attention; it, like, defined her, but didn't. If that made sense.

"I don't know what made her think that I also liked her that way, though."

"You don't?" Cam snorted. "Come on, man."

Kemp stared blankly at him.

"Dude. You… you, like, _claimed_ her," replied Cam. "With all that _my girl_ and _my one and only_ bullshit you're always spewing. I would think you had a crush on me too if you talked to me that way."

"But she _is_ my girl."

"The way you say it… it's doesn't sound the way you think it sounds."

"It doesn't?" Kemp bit down on the inside of his cheek. "I never meant-"

 _I never meant for it to seem like I liked anyone other than-_

Cam dropped a hand on his shoulder. "Hey," he said, his voice interrupting Kemp's train of thought. "It'll be okay, you know that, right? Just give her some space. Believe me, girls hate it when you mess with their hearts."

"I think that might go for everyone, not just girls."

"True," Cam agreed, "but we don't like to tell girls that, do we?"

"We don't like to tell anyone that, actually," amended Kemp. "It's not a very macho thing to admit. Having feelings."

"I think Alicia would call that toxic masculinity," Cam mused.

"I don't think I like talking to you," Kemp decided, closing his eyes as he leaned back into the cushion.

Cam huffed out a laugh, and there was the sound of the leather creaking as he shifted in place. "You're the one who started talking about this," he reminded him, "I'm just humoring you."

"You normally don't want to talk about this shit." _The roles have reversed as we grew up, I guess._ "I was hoping you'd shut it down."

"I can do that," said Cam. "Wanna play _Spyro_?"

"No." And then, popping one eye open: "You have _Spyro_?"

Cam's teeth gleamed as he grinned at him. "It's old as shit and the graphics are crappy but it's still a quality game."

"You're only doing this because you don't wanna talk anymore and you know _Spyro_ is my shit."

"Nah." Cam threw a controller in his lap. "It'll be easier to talk while we're parading a little dragon around. Less stress."

"But I'm stressed about the little dragon now," argued Kemp.

"Your problem, not mine." The start screen loaded up before them; Cam started a new game. "You wanna keep talking or…?"

Kemp swallowed, watching Cam race around on screen. He didn't particularly want to play nor did he particularly want to talk. He wanted… he wanted to do _something_ , though, to rid himself of these unwanted feelings deep in the pit of his stomach. And if talking wasn't the best way to free himself of this cage, what was?

Cam was a good friend. He wasn't Plov or Alicia, but he was enough.

"What do you think I should do about the Alicia thing?" he asked, because he had no idea. He was fucked up for not being even remotely interested in her. Dudes would _kill_ to have even a sliver of her attention and he… he got all of her affection somehow.

There was a beat of silence as Cam (as Spyro) raced around trying to free frozen dragons.

"Be honest," said the other boy, his eyes still trained on the television screen. "It doesn't do anyone any good if you lie, especially if you want to remain Alicia's friend. She'll hate you for a bit, but in the long run it's for the best, I think. You'd rather keep her as a friend, right?"

"Yeah." Kemp licked his lips. "I'd hate to lose her."

"We all fuck up, bro," Cam told him, and Kemp wondered if he was thinking about the Massie debacle he currently found himself in. He and Derrick hardly sorted that shit out, even if they thought they did. Even if they _wanted_ to think they did. "What matters is what you do after. How you react. How you handle the situation."

What was the best way to handle it, though?

By kissing Alicia - blacked out or no - he tore at the foundations of two of his friendships. Sober Kemp knew Chris had an enormous crush on Alicia. Sober Kemp would have _never_.

Drunk Kemp couldn't seem to keep his dick in his pants when he got any sort of female attention. Metaphorically, of course.

"I'll give them space," he decided aloud. "Alicia and Plovert. I need to… to not be around them. For a while."

"Are you sure about that?" Cam asked dubiously.

"What else should I do?"

"I dunno, like, not… not _space_ , but an explanation?" Cam gnawed on his lower lip, eyes still trained to the screen. In his posture, Kemp could tell he was paying attention to the conversation. That, and the fact that Spyro was literally just running in circles. "Ignoring them doesn't do anything but make you out to be a dick, you know? Like. Like it looks like you've got something to hide or you aren't being completely truthful. Something like that."

"But what if-"

 _What if I do have something to hide?_

"What if…?" Cam prompted, dropping his controller.

Kemp cleared his throat, forced himself to make eye contact. "They're gonna think I'm a dick regardless. Because, like, I _am_ a dick."

"True," agreed Cam, "but that's why we love you, right?"

 _I hope so_ , Kemp thought, but he wasn't thinking about Cam, Alicia, or Plovert.

.

 _ **Dune Baxter**_ : what the FUCK dude  
 _ **Danny Robbins**_ : ?  
 _ **Dune Baxter**_ : i knew u were an asshole and i respected it but this is 2 much  
 _ **Danny Robbins**_ : idk what ur talking about  
 _ **Danny Robbins**_ : but u saying 2 much is too much for me tbh lmao  
 _ **Dune Baxter**_ : this  
 _ **Dune Baxter**_ : _Attachment: 1 Video  
_ _ **Dune Baxter**_ : why tf did you record this  
 _ **Danny Robbins**_ : for posterity? Shes hot lmao  
 _ **Danny Robbins**_ : oops

.

The curtain was soft between Claire's fingers as she spied on the Blocks from across the yard. It was quiet, as usual, a very different thing from the cacophony of sound inside her own home. Kendra was running on the treadmill, probably barking orders to someone about some event or another through her Bluetooth. William wasn't there - he was on out of the country on a business trip, or at least that was what Claire's dad said. Massie, on the other hand- Massie was in the kitchen with Inez, and Claire knew she was talking to her about making her favorite dinner, enchiladas, for their get-together that night.

That get-together that Claire was not going to attend.

"We're going out tonight," Skye said.

Claire dropped the curtain and turned, phone perched between her ear and her shoulder. "I'm still-"

"You'll bounce back," assured Skye. "You know what they always say: hair of the dog that bit you."

"That doesn't really work," Claire argued. Her stomach was rolling just thinking about drinking vodka again. About _socializing_ again. "Do I have to? I kind of have a thing-"

A thing she wasn't going to, but Skye didn't need to know that.

The DSL Daters were kind of scary, in their all-blond militaristic glory. They thrived on being underappreciated, on being mistaken for ditzy bimbos who cared only about sexual conquests. It was rather interesting to see the double standard for boys and girls, though- each DSL Dater was called a slut, but they let it roll off their backs because they were enjoying life. They didn't _care_. But past all that, they were cunning and conniving, masters of sabotage. They could take down anyone with just a look. They saved receipts before it was cool, had blackmail on almost everyone. On students, teachers, local politicians. After just hanging out with them for a night, Claire knew Massie was nothing compared to Skye. Blatantly meaner, yes, but she didn't have the horsepower.

"Yes, you have to," Skye told her. "We can't just induct you into the Daters without a little initiation, can we?"

"Induct," repeated Claire.

"Yes." Skye huffed like she was upset Claire was slow on the uptake. "We don't necessarily bother with new people unless we want them to be part of our group."

"But-"

"You're the first one in five years, Lyons. This is an honor."

It was, yes, but- _but_ -

Claire sighed. "Where are we going?"

She probably couldn't trust them, but it was the first time in three months someone actually wanted to hang out with her and wasn't just dragging her around as an afterthought, so. Whatever. She could always get some good dirt out of them, right?

Skye let out a thrilled little squeal. "Okay, great," she answered, "so we're going to Missy's for pre-drinks and then there's this little place, like, I don't know, ten-fifteen minutes away? It's so… _quaint_. I love it."

"I don't have a fake," said Claire, heading over to her closet. What did she wear to _pre-drinks_? At _Missy's_?

Skye giggled. "Don't worry about that. It's under control."

"Right."

"And wear something hot," she recommended. "Like, anything slinky and revealing- wait, you probably don't have anything like that, you girls don't go _out_ -out. Come over ASAP: I have options for you."

Claire didn't know whether to be offended or not, but replied, "I don't know where you live."

"I'll send my driver. See you in twenty!"

.

 _ **skyeham**_ posted a new story  
 _baby's first power hour **lyonsroar**_

.

 _ **Massie Block**_ : are you kidding  
 _ **Claire Lyons**_ : _read 7:22pm_

.

Her phone was ringing.

Her phone was ringing, and she made enchiladas for no fucking reason, and- and her phone was ringing.

"Hello?" she snapped, not even bothering to check the Caller ID.

"We have a problem," said Chris Plovert.

"Yeah, we do," agreed Massie, debating tossing the entire dinner in the trash. What a waste of time. "Claire just-"

"No," he cut her off. "It's not about-"

"What could be worse than Claire ditching _me_ for _Skye_?"

"No, Mass, listen to me, this is much bigger than- wait, what? No, never mind, Massie, _listen_ -"

There was a loud knocking at her front door, insistent and panicked.

"Hold on," Massie told Chris. "Someone is banging on my door."

"Okay, but listen to me while you see who it is-"

"Wait," said Massie, pulling her phone from her ear and checking the screen. "Dylan's calling me."

"Threeway," Chris replied. "She probably knows what I'm about to tell y-"

"Hold on." Massie switched calls, hardly greeting her redheaded friend before she was babbling at what felt like a hundred miles a minute. "Dyl, slow down, I don't know what you're try-"

All she heard was _Alicia_ and _fucking Danny Robbins_ and _what are we GOING TO DO_ before she was swinging her door open, face to face with the person Dylan was rambling about.

Alicia stood on her doorstep, hair falling out of its messy bun, tears streaming down her cheeks. She choked on a sob, meeting Massie's bewildered gaze, and shoved her phone in her face. It was the first time in a long time Massie had seen Alicia look disheveled. Even when she was upset at the football game Alicia looked like a movie star.

" _Help_ ," the Latina cried.

Massie's eyes focused on the video playing on the screen.

"What is this?"

"It's _me_ ," Alicia wailed, "it's _me_ and he sent it to _everyone_!"

Massie heard Dylan's voice on the other end, heard the beeping noise that implied someone else was trying to call her, heard Alicia's sniffles, heard Danny Robbins's recorded moans. Her phone dropped from her hand and she heard that, too, shattering on her front porch. And she saw- she saw what would ultimately destroy Alicia. She saw Alicia's (unwanted) sex tape.

"What am I supposed to do?" Alicia murmured and Massie tried to look her in the face, but she couldn't. It was like she was trapped, paralyzed, only able to watch the video as it restarted. It was a side of Alicia Massie would have liked to never see, but here it was: broadcasted to everyone.

She swallowed, tore her gaze away, and said, "I'm not sure yet, but I'll figure it out. Call everyone. Tell them to meet here."

.

 _ **BOCDSecrets**_ posted a photo  
 _Not going to repost what I'm sure you've all seen, but it looks like our little_ _ **aleesharivera**_ _is finally about to be the Kim Kardashian she's always wanted to be! Discuss in the comments below xoxo  
_ 1,098 comments  
 **erosen** _hotter than kim k  
_ **kgreg** _r u fucking kidding  
_ **tinynate** _kim k's was better  
_ **cfish** _im going to sue_


	18. Two Ghosts

**a/n** : this is shorter than i wanted it to be. i always want to give you more, but... seemed right to end it here. sorry for the wait, as always. i'm still goin' through it, but not as bad. i also have a shitty laptop screen right now and writing on my phone takes forever and hurts my fingers.

let me know if there are certain things you'd like to see while i tie in the plot (whatever the plot is at this point)!

(very very not edited btw + i don't remember a lot of their usernames for social media so bear with me if i am wrong)

xx

* * *

 _We're not who we used to be_  
 _We're not who we used to be_  
 _We're just two ghosts standing in the place of you and me_  
 _Trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat  
_ \- "Two Ghosts," Harry Styles

* * *

One of his redeeming qualities was his ability to think things through. If something didn't seem worth it, couldn't be justified, he'd drop it.

There were only a handful of situations- meaning, like, four- _five_ , if we really want to push it- in which he did the opposite and those all shaped the reputation he had today. Sensitive, smart bad boy. A Lip Gallagher without half the mess.

Twisting open Massie's front door and storming in with blood all down his shirt and what felt like a broken nose, he believed he had more than half the mess going for him. He had the whole thing.

Chris hardly shouted a greeting before he was climbing the grand staircase up to the second floor, shoving himself into Massie's room. He didn't take his shoes off, dirtying up the white rug on his way to her bathroom. It was like he lived here; he knew where everything was, and so he did not need anyone's help as he rummaged through her cabinets and drawers for cotton balls and rubbing alcohol. If his nose was really broken he couldn't do anything about it, but he could clean himself up before he gave someone a heart attack.

"Thanks for being a dick, by the way, real great to see you t…" Massie's voice fizzled into nothing as she eyed the pile of bloodied tissues on her sink counter. "What is this?"

He made eye contact with her in the mirror, blue eyes meeting amber, and he swallowed, seeing the blooming bruise on his jaw and the way his nose jutted just _so_. He averted his gaze, avoided the disappointed dimple in her cheek.

" _Chris_ ," she said on the breath of a sigh.

It was astounding how easily she could make him feel ashamed.

"Look," he said quickly, "he's my cousin, okay? I know we always forget, but-"

"What did you _do_?" she demanded. "Walk into his house and, what, _punch him_ -"

Chris stared at the red watery stain settling by the drain. "Basically."

He felt her step around him, her shoulder brushing against his arm. "Alicia is here," she whispered fiercely, searching for Neosporin, or something else she could dab on his face. "Alicia's here, and she's a _wreck_ , I can't get her to stop crying, and at any given moment Kemp will show up, which will ruin her even more. I cannot have her see you like this."

"It's not like you can magically get rid of it."

"Foundation does wonders."

"Absolutely not."

"You did an incredibly stupid thing, going over there," she snapped at him. "And for what? What did you hope to accomplish?"

Chris whacked her fingers away from his face. "He… he _mass-texted_ a video of Alicia blo- of Alicia in a compromising position," he said, as if Massie didn't know, as if Massie didn't _see_. "I bet he didn't even have her consent to take it. I bet she didn't even _know_. He has, like, an entire- a _collection_ of shit like that. He loves it. He's… he's the dirtiest guy I know." Chris gripped the side of the counter, his knuckles turning white. "And I knew. I knew what he was, and what things he had, and I… I didn't do anything. Not until I knew the person he'd done it to. This… this is my way of- I don't know. He deserved it."

She tried to console him, he could feel it, but he wouldn't let her. Any soft touch, any attempt to clean his face off more than he did… He wouldn't allow it. Not when he'd been complacent for so long. Not when he'd listened to Danny brag about his conquests at family get-togethers. He'd _seen_ how many videos he'd had. A whole external hard drive of them. Granted most were of Skye Hamilton, but.

 _But_.

He should have said something. _Done_ something. If he had…

"Don't you dare think that way," ordered Massie.

"How do you know what way I'm thinking?"

"You've got your serious, contemplative face on."

Chris forced his mouth into a smarmy grin. "Actually I'm thinking about how great your ass looks in those pants."

He deserved the resounding slap she gave him.

"Danny would have fucked her over one way or another," Massie said. She handed him a cotton ball. It stung when he pressed it to his face. "He's been doing that since they started their… thing… last summer."

"Summer," Chris said flatly.

"Fourth of July," supplied Massie. "Don't look like that. You weren't in our lives when she-"

"I was in your lives when she fucking blew him last night," Chris interrupted. He pressed the soaked cotton ball to his nose again, allowed the sting to provide him pain. It was better to feel it physically than emotionally, better to think the burn was from an actual wound rather than the ache in his heart. "I was _here_ and-"

" _YOOOOO_ ," came the infuriated call of Derrick Harrington. The doorbell went off once, twice, three times, and then the door shut with a slam that seemed to shake the estate to its foundation.

Massie's cheeks reddened.

Chris coughed.

Alicia's wail sounded like an alarm.

"Leesh, I swear to _fucking God_ , I will de _stroy_ -" The rest of Derrick's threat faded into the background as he headed farther into the house. They remained silent for a moment, Chris and Massie, hoping to hear more, but the only sounds available to them were their collective breathing and the rustling of the wind through the branches outside the bathroom window.

"I was hoping he wouldn't show," Massie confessed.

Chris attempted to fight an amused snort and failed. "Seriously?" When she didn't answer, he added, "He and Ali are in constant contact. I wouldn't be surprised if she told him about this before she showed up here."

"Leave your bitterness at the door, yeah?" suggested Massie. "I don't want to deal with two explosive situations right now."

"Two?" he repeated, spluttering on a disbelieving chuckle. "You called us _all_ , Mass. That's… ten explosive situations waiting to happen."

"Nine," corrected Massie. "Claire's not coming."

"Yeah." He nodded. "She doesn't particularly like Alicia that much, so why would she-"

"-no, it's because she's currently getting initiated into the DSL Daters."

Chris choked. "Excuse me, _what_?"

.

 _ **Landon Crane**_ : have you seen this what is this  
 _ **Massie Block**_ : I'm trying to handle it  
 _ **Landon Crane**_ : handle it? mass this is a sex crime or smth  
 _ **Massie Block**_ : u think I dont know that?

.

Claire knew this was a bad idea, but discomfort propelled her forward, a voice stroking the insecurities filling her brain. _One more shot_ , it said. _Just one more. Look: Skye can do it, and so can Missy, and Leslie, and Heidi. One more._

And so she swallowed tequila and she didn't make a face as it burned down her throat.

And she met P.J. Jefferies' gaze and ignored the disgust that shuddered down her spine as he blatantly checked her out.

And she accepted the next shot just to see the approval dancing in each of the Daters' eyes and subtly shifted in her dress, trying to hide her chest even though the plunging neckline didn't allow it.

And she took another one, three in less than three minutes, probably a bad idea, when Skye started screaming.

Again.

She must already be part of the group if she was allowed to see perfect Skye Hamilton come undone like this.

"DON'T TOUCH ME! NOT UNTIL AFTER YOU THOROUGHLY WASH YOURSELF OF THAT DIRTY LITTLE HISPANIC! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU WOULD LET THAT WHORE MOUTH OF HERS ANYWHERE _NEAR_ YOU-"

"She's not Hispanic, but okay," Dune Baxter muttered.

"Babe, you knew I was going to have her mouth near me," Danny Robbins defended, this questionable bruise blooming around his eye. No one seemed concerned about it besides Claire so she kept her mouth shut. It probably didn't matter. "You encouraged it, even. You wanted me to-"

"Yes, I _wanted._ But did I want you to send that video to _everyone in the fucking school_?"

"Then what was the point of taking it?" Danny asked. "Didn't you want me to send it around?"

Skye stomped her foot, cheeks pink from the alcohol and hair falling messily in her eyes. Danny went to brush her bangs out of her face but was slapped away. "I had a plan," she whined, "a good one, too! And Claire was going to help!"

Claire blinked. "I was?"

"You didn't know it yet," Skye informed her. Missy patted her shoulder. "You were so good at planting the seeds last night that I just _knew_ I had to rope you in somehow. Rivers was so nervous all night. It was delicious."

 _Uh._

Claire had no idea what she was talking about but nodded anyway. Best to keep these crazy, high strung alphas happy.

"And you ruined it!" Skye rounded back on Danny, shoving a finger in his chest. "I was going to _ruin_ her."

"I think you did anyway," he offered. "The video's out. Everyone's seen it. Even _BOCDSecrets_ posted about it."

"Of course _BOCDSecrets_ posted about it! She lives for this shit," Skye snapped hastily. "It's ruined because now she has those stupid friends of hers attempting to fix it- Claire's still in the group chat, I _saw_ the SOS text."

"They can damage control all they want." Danny scoffed, taking a long pull of his drink. He crushed the can in his fist, tossed it in the trash. "There's no way they can get rid of it. It's already done. The school's seen it, the board's probably seen it. It's out there forever. Admissions counselors will see it, future employers… she's done, baby."

Maybe it was the alcohol coursing through her veins but Claire was feeling particularly brave. Brave enough to ask: "Sorry, but you _wanted_ him to cheat on you?"

"He gets to do whatever I do, and Cody Hill made me orgasm so hard I cried, so."

Claire blinked. She was doing a lot of that. Like, definitely more so than usual.

"I don't think I follow," she admitted.

"It's best if you just take it with a grain of salt and never ask again," explained P.J., throwing an arm around her shoulders. "They make no sense. See?"

Clearly Skye thought her answer was sufficient enough.

(It wasn't, but Claire would learn later that it all started when Danny cheated on her the first time and instead of dropping him like any sane girl would, she turned around and cheated right back. It was a game they played, but Skye would always be punishing him for picking Alicia more than once.)

Danny had his fingers wrapped around her chin, was saying something like _baby, please, it's fine_ and then they were kissing, this heated, confusing sort of thing that made Claire's skin itch. P.J., on the other hand, merely squeezed her arm a little tighter.

"I never want to see that again," she muttered, looking away. "I thought my friends' relationships were weird."

"Nah," said P.J. "Come on, though, you look like the sight of them is going to make you vomit. Let's leave them be."

Dune Baxter hardly looked up from his phone as they passed him- it looked like he was furiously texting someone named Dylan- and Missy gave Claire an enthusiastic thumbs up when she saw the two of them inching their way out of the room.

"Do _you_ get it?" she asked, stumbling into the counter.

"No," admitted P.J. "But it's kind of like not understanding your parents. They've been doing this since middle school, so it's not concerning or weird and we typically don't care. I get why you do, though."

Claire looked up at him through her heavily-mascara'd lashes. "You do?"

"Yeah." He smiled, and it was this slow, big sort of thing, transforming his face. It was cute. "You're new." He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear; it must have fallen out of her baby bun. "And you're used to Harrington and Massie- they're explosive."

"I wouldn't say _explosi-_ "

P.J. leveled her with a look that shut her up immediately. "We pay attention," he told her. "You might not think we do. Everything that girl does is for attention."

"And Skye is the opposite?"

He shrugged as if he were beneath this conversation, as if he didn't _start_ it in the first place. "Skye doesn't need attention. She already has it. And now you will too." He stepped closer to her, even though he was already close enough. "You won't have to live in Massie's shadow. Skye treats all of her girls the same way, even if she's sometimes always yelling."

 _Sometimes always yelling_ didn't make much sense to Claire, but she did like the idea of not having to worry about Massie's opinions on her shoes, or her hair, or the fact that she hadn't dated or kissed a boy since Cam… and it would be nice not to wonder why she was second-best to Alicia, who Massie always seemed to be competing with. Who Massie spent _months_ at a time hating.

"But do I have to…" Claire stopped, wet her lips. "Do I have to do everything they do?"

He appraised her, and it felt like he was looking into her soul. "What do you mean?"

"The bracelet thing," she clarified. "We all know what they stand for."

"That's definitely a question for Skye," P.J. answered, shifting forward and knocking his knee in between her legs. "But I can give you a headstart. If you want."

.

 _ **mcambridge** posted a new photo  
dsl: high speed_  
987 likes / view all 4 comments  
 **solomondempsey** _lookin good ladies  
_ **skyeham** _:*_

.

Cam eyed Chris's face skeptically, biting down on the straw of his Starbucks cup. "What the fuck happened to you?"

The other boy shook his head minutely, avoiding eye contact, and letting Massie press an ice pack to his cheek. "Nuthin'," he mumbled.

" _Nothing_ ," Derrick parroted.

"His sister slammed a door in his face," Massie informed them stiffly. "He's embarrassed. Leave him alone."

The two boys stared at her, gazes a mixture of disbelief and annoyance. We're lying to each other, again? She looked back at them, face blank, eyes fierce, and they recoiled- only slightly, and just enough for their attention to be diverted elsewhere.

To the arrival of Kemp Hurley.

(Derrick was still searching her face as he entered, but she did not have the time to worry about that. Or about him.)

But for once, Kemp was silent in his fury, and he threw himself down in the armchair farthest from them all, crossing his legs in front of him.

There was an awkward silence as they took him in, the tension filling the room and suffocating them. Derrick and Cam shared a significant look; Alicia cleared her throat and tried to get comfortable on the couch, limbs tight against her body like she was trying to shield herself from any kind of attention, even if it was from her friends.

Then, after staring at Alicia, after running hands raggedly over his head, Kemp said, "I know you don't want to see me, but you really didn't think to call before you punched Robbins in the face?"

" _This_ ," Massie started loudly, "is because he got a doorknob to the _cheek_ -"

"-I know what kind of bruise a fist makes and what kind of bruise a door makes," Kemp interrupted. "This is the first one, sweetheart, but nice try."

"Sweetheart," she snapped at him. "Did you just call me _sweetheart_?"

Kemp rolled his eyes. "Yep. And I'll do it a second time if I have to."

"You will do no such thing."

"I'm trying to talk to Plov, not you. Will you let him use his own words for once?"

Cam made a loud slurping sound as he finished off his drink. "What's with all the animosity, dude?"

"I'm pissed off," said Kemp. "Why are you so nonchalant?"

"There's no reason to take it out on Massie," Derrick started.

"I would like to assess the situation before I get all hotheaded," said Cam.

"The situation is clear: There's a sex tape of Alicia out there, Chris got punched in the face, and Derrick is trying to defend Massie."

Derrick frowned. "Okay, but you don't have to be a dick about it."

"You guys are just _sitting here_ while a girl literally falls apart next to you and you're not doing anything!" Kemp shot at them. Alicia flinched when they all turned to look at her. "There is no situation to assess. We have to figure out what to do about this."

Cam spread his fingers out along the knees of his jeans. "The only thing we can do is try to get it taken down," he offered up, "but that doesn't mean shit, and we all know it. It'll have been saved and sent by other people. Everyone…" He paused, taking in Alicia. "Everyone's always said how much they'd kill for whatever was sent out. Especially in the locker room."

"Best we can do is get him expelled," Derrick said. "Maybe arrested for the distribution of pornography of a minor, but…"

"But look at the track record of student athletes," Massie brought up, looking forlorn as she did so.

" _Male_ student athletes, you mean," clarified Dylan as she swept into the room. Unlike the others, she was not afraid to get in Alicia's bubble and she all but draped herself over her. "But look at it this way: we all have a ridiculous amount of money. And I have an incredibly famous mother."

Chris straightened, jostling Massie's hold on his face. "Can't your dad just, like, sue him, Al?"

She snorted, gripping her pillow. "And show him the tape?"

"Hate to break it to you, hon, but he's probably already seen it," Dylan murmured, running her fingers through Alicia's curly hair.

"Yeah," agreed Cam, "my brother texted me about it, which means it's gotten to the alumni, too, and I'm not going to tell you what he said at all."

"What am I going to do?" cried Alicia, slapping Dylan's hands from her face.

"We," said Derrick. "What are _we_ going to do, you mean. You're not doing this alone."

"No way," agreed Cam. "I just… I know it's probably embarrassing but you're going to have to tell us what happened."

Alicia swallowed. "I…" Her eyebrows knit together and it was then that the room noticed she wasn't wearing even smidge of makeup. "It's not like I blacked out or anything," she said. "I remember it all. I willingly went with him. I just. I just don't remember him filming it."

"He didn't have his phone in his hand?"

"No."

Kemp growled lowly, sinking into the cushions. "He must've planned it, then. Put it somewhere else in the room."

"It was-" Derrick coughed, cheeks turning a magnificent shade of red. "It was a good angle. Very… uh. Point of view."

"It's his room." Cam shrugged. "He knows where to put things."

"And it's not like it's the first time he's ever recorded a girl," added Chris, who looked like he wanted to punch himself in the other eye.

Dylan chewed on the ends of her hair. "How do you destroy a guy who has no shame?"

"I believe I can help with that." Dune Baxter came strolling into the room, hands shoved in the pockets of his heather grey sweatpants. "Hey, Chris, you got Danny real good. Half his face is black and blue."

"Sweet."

"What the hell are you doing here?" Cam demanded, half-rising out of his seat.

Derrick shot his arm out, forcing him to stay down.

"Sorry, that's on me," Kristen replied breathlessly, slipping into the room. "He was sort of just loitering outside, so, you know, I naturally asked him what he was doing and what he wanted, and he said-"

"I said I wanted to help Alicia," Dune finished for her. "Danny and I are hardly close and quite frankly I can't stand how pretentious he is."

Kemp slammed his foot on the hardwood floor. "How do we know we can trust you?"

"You don't," said Dune. "You just have to give me a chance."

"But-"

"I've known him since I was eight."

"Chris is his cousin; he's known him his whole life."

"True," agreed Dune, "but only as his cousin. I've known him as his friend."

"Is there a difference?"

"Yes," both Chris and Dune answered.

Massie remained silent, appraising him, in all of his casual, messy glory. Kristen padded around him and took the open spot next to Cam. Alicia shifted again, looking between Kemp and Derrick, wondering who was going to make the first move, say the first thing. Wondering when Derrick stopped acting before thinking.

But Dune merely stood in the middle of them, not inconvenienced or intimidated by them in the slightest, unabashedly staring at Dylan.

She chewed her hair again.

"Why," Derrick started, "aren't you with him right now?"

"I was. Before." Dune rocked on his heels. "It's boring tonight. For me. Not for them. They don't… I'm not necessary for what they're doing."

The younger blonde clicked his tongue. "What are they doing?"

It was Massie who answered: "Initiating Claire."

"Initiating?" Cam questioned. "Into what?"

At the same time, Dylan shrieked, spitting her hair out of her mouth. She frantically wiped at her lips to get the pesky strands that stuck there off and demanded, "You're kidding, right? Is this part of some grand scheme? Did you ask her to do this? Why weren't we told-"

"Because I didn't know," answered Massie.

"You didn't know?"

"She has been acting strange lately," Kristen mused.

"We've, uh, all been acting weird," Massie said softly. She tugged her lip between her teeth and chewed slowly, no doubt thinking about every decision she'd ever made in the past three months. "I don't know if that's a good enough excuse for-"

"-but _why_ is she getting initiated?"

Alicia sniffled. "Skye is probably using her for something."

"Claire being the weakest link used to be endearing." Cam sighed. "Sometimes I can't believe I dated her."

Kemp aimed a kick at Cam's shins. "Now you're the one being an asshole."

"Wait," Dylan said loudly, "Claire is really in with the DSL Daters? You aren't punking me?"

"Why would we be punking you?"

"There was that one time freshman year when you-"

"She's got an ulterior motive," Dune cut in, still looking oddly at home under the scrutiny of Kemp Hurley and Derrick Harrington. "Probably. I don't know much about her, if I'm honest."

"Are you?" asked Derrick.

"What?"

"Honest," he clarified. "Are you?"

Dune ran his tongue over his teeth. "Right now I am. Can't be positive I will be in the future."

"Asshole," muttered Massie.

"Thanks," he returned easily, flashing her a smile. "Hey, where's the other one? Hotz?"

"That's none of your concern," Kemp said coolly.

"Be nice," Dylan warned.

Kemp threw his palms up.

"Look," Dune began, gaze flicking between the two of them and then resting on Alicia. "Do you want my help or not?"

"What can you possibly do? The video's already out. It will _always_ be out."

Kristen chewed the inside of her cheek. "I hate to agree, but… he's right."

"He's right, yes, that the video is out," Dune said slowly, scholarly, like a teacher in front of a class. "But together Plovert and I probably have a lot of dirt on Danny. And we can always… air his dirty laundry, so to speak."

Chris nodded begrudgingly.

" _But_ it will have to wait," finished Dune. "Maybe a month or so."

" _A month_?"

"Or so," he repeated.

"We heard you the first time," Kemp snapped. "The emphasis is because we don't understand."

Dune refrained from rolling his eyes; he twisted his wrist irritably instead. "They're expecting retaliation, you know. Because that's what you guys do. You retaliate."

"Don't tell us _what we d_ -"

"They were talking about it before I left," Dune interrupted, plopping down in an empty seat. "I'd make a new groupchat if I were you. I think they hijacked Claire's."

Alicia scoffed. "Claire's dead to me."

"Claire's been dead to you for years," Kristen rebutted.

"Uhhhh, hardly," said Alicia. "I was nice to her this year."

"From September to the first week of October," the dirty blond informed dryly. "I'm still surprised with her, quite frankly."

"I'm not. She's been a bitch since the moment we met her, but she's been able to hide underneath her stupid bangs and her stupid Keds and her stupid overalls."

"Someone's back to normal," Cam muttered.

Kemp kicked his shin again. Chris shot him a dirty look.

Massie, with her chin resting on her fist, asked, "So, what do you suggest we do for now?"

Dune smiled at her, this victorious sort of thing, and answered, "We give them what they want."

"Which is?" prompted Derrick.

"Have Alicia play the victim."

.

 _ **Derrick Harrington**_ : I'm gonna punch him in the throat  
 _ **Cam Fisher**_ : DONT

.

Derrick stirred the lemon slice to the very bottom of his iced tea, stabbing it through the middle with the end of a straw. "We can't just expect Alicia to _not do anything_ ," he hissed.

"Just… just fuckin' mix more iced teas, okay?" Cam ordered him, frowning at his fingers. "Ow," he mumbled as lemon juice seeped into a tiny cut from a hangnail.

"But like," Derrick started, throwing a handful of ice into another tall glass, "why am I in here when I could be out there?"

Cam snorted. "Because you tried to punch Dune in the face?"

"He suggested Alicia spend a month not doing anything but crying!" Derrick shoved lemon in the same cup. "Ali- Ali doesn't _cry_ , she destroys people who try to destroy her."

"She's crying right now," Cam pointed out.

"You're stupid and insensitive."

"You are not the first person to tell me that," the other responded.

"We should just go to the police now," Derrick snapped.

"Alicia doesn't want to do that," Cam reminded him, "and besides we don't even know if he sent it out, remember?"

Derrick sighed loudly. "Of course we do! Who else would… would send that out?"

"It all points to him, yes, but it went out through a restricted number and an anonymous email server…" Cam bit the inside of his cheek as he poured liquid into all the glasses he and Derrick had prepped. "Is this even how you make iced tea?"

"No idea." Derrick scrubbed a hand over his face. "I wish Hotz would hurry up."

"Rome wasn't built in a day," Cam retorted. "He's not even a good IT guy. He's, like, better than average; just because he broke into the school server freshman year to change Kemp's math grade doesn't mean he's able to trace a message like this."

"It's an _IP address_ , anyone can-"

"-if it's so easy why don't _you_ -"

"-these are my _friends_ , Mother, and as you can see we are in the middle of a cris-"

"-I don't care who they are, Massie Lynn, I did not approve of them being here-"

"-since when do you approve who gets to be here?"

Cam's mouth was still open, lips pursed and prepared to keep speaking, but it wasn't his voice that filled the room. Derrick was aware of this, but he was still expecting Cam to talk, like he was a step or two behind the real world. Thankfully Cam didn't look any better.

"I didn't know Kendra was back," the dark-haired boy murmured.

"I didn't know she was gone."

"Yeah," said Cam. The _you wouldn't_ sat uncomfortably between them. "She was doing a shoot, I think."

Derrick tugged his bottom lip between his teeth. Let it go. "Was she always like this?"

" _Get them out_!"

" _No, this is my house, too, and you can't tell me what to do! You lost that right_!"

" _What? The right to mother you_ -"

"- _mother me_?" The laugh that left Massie's mouth sent a shiver of goosebumps down Derrick's spine. " _When have you ever done that_?"

" _Massie, I am your_ mother."

" _Funny how you get to pick and choose when you are._ "

"No," Cam replied. "No, she wasn't."

"Right." Derrick nodded. "Cool, cool, cool."

"Lifestyle of the rich and fucked up, am I right?"

Derrick ignored the joke, grabbed as many iced teas as he could, and headed back into the living room.

"No, not there," Dylan murmured, gently taking a glass and his elbow and changing his course. "We're gonna take this party outside while that happens in there." She added hastily at Derrick's concerned glare, "She'll tell us when she's ready."

Kristen, on his other side, said, "Which may be never."

"It's, like, twenty degrees out," Kemp complained. It was important to note the distance he was keeping from Dune.

It might also be important to note the distance Alicia was keeping from him- Kemp- too.

Chris sighed. "Not even close, and you have a jacket, so."

Kemp stomped his feet petulantly.

"The patio is heated, too, dumbass," Dylan shot at him.

"I miss Josh," the boy mumbled. "He would never be this mean to me."

"True," agreed Cam, "he'd be meaner."

"It's hard to believe you're actually my age," Dune mused, kicking his feet up on an empty chair. "You're so… _you_."

"How eloquent," sneered Kemp. "Sorry we can't all be eighty year old men like you."

Dune snorted. "Eighty year old men are not getting as much ass as I am. Next."

"Half that ass is your own, probably."

"Do you like it?"

"Your ass?" Kemp questioned. "I've seen better."

"What is happening here," Kristen asked though it hardly sounded like she wanted an answer.

"A courting ceremony, no doubt," Cam replied, sipping on his drink. "Fuck," he muttered, smacking his lips. "We made it too sweet, dude."

"No such thing." Derrick took a long gulp. Coughed. Coughed again. "No. Yeah. It's fine."

"Now that we're all appropriately dating and acquainted," Cam started loudly, to which Kemp vehemently protested, "As if I would date _that_."

Dune raised a brow. Tossed his arm casually over the top of the patio couch, still as fancy (and most likely expensive) as the furniture inside the Blocks' home. His fingertips ever so slightly brushed the curls of Dylan's hair, falling out of its updo- but you had to pay super close attention to notice that.

" _That_ ," he repeated. "Your animosity makes me feel negatively about myself."

"Good."

"Y'all are being assholes for no reason," Kristen chastised. "I know you aren't like this."

Dune lolled his head around to look at her. "How so?"

"Because you take the time to learn the cheerleaders' choreography and you came over here to warn us about your friends."

"Yeah, well." He shrugged. "Alicia's hot. I want to get on her good side."

Kemp snapped, "You will literally have to _murder me_ before you do that."

Dune flashed his teeth. "That can be arranged."

Dylan slapped his (Dune's) chest. "Down, boy. Unnecessary aggression."

"Yes, Mom," Dune replied dutifully. He grabbed her hand and squeezed.

"I did not give you permission to touch me."

Dune lifted his hands in mocking surrender.

"So," Chris started, wiping his finger on the condensation developing on his glass. "What exactly-"

He was cut off by another muffled shout- this one sounding more like Massie than Kendra- and the generic ringing of an iPhone.

"I can't believe they are actually fighting in front of us," murmured Kristen, shifting into her knees to squint through the window into the house. "That's out of character."

Derrick licked his lips. "Kendra's been acting, uh, out of character lately. Apparently. I mean, that's what I heard."

"We don't really know anything," Cam added on, now munching on his lemon slice. "She was incoherent last night, so."

Dylan's brows knit together. Kristen kept her eyes forward, like she could see more, though there was no movement beyond the glass. Alicia gnawed her lower lip, gaze trained on Dune Baxter's profile.

"So," Kemp said, sliding back into his seat. They hadn't noticed he'd gotten up. "Josh has some news."

.

 _ **Josh Hotz**_ : ur good at things right?  
 _ **Layne Abeley**_ : I dont understand this text  
 _ **Josh Hotz**_ : ur good at weird things  
 _ **Layne Abeley**_ : What constitutes as "weird"  
 _ **Josh Hotz**_ : I need help w something  
 _ **Josh Hotz**_ : and I know your little secret  
 _ **Layne Abeley**_ : meet me at the park

.

She let him.

She wasn't sure what compelled her: the drink swirling in her stomach, the gray-green color of his eyes, or the way his slow, easy grin made the lower part of her body rush with heat.

He tasted like cinnamon and spice. His arms wound around her waist, pulling her closer.

He nipped at her lower lip, persuading her to open her mouth, and then-

-and then Claire woke up in her bed, tongue heavy, throat dry, and a pounding ache right between her eyes.


	19. Do Right

**a/n** \- it's been a minute. a lot of shit happens in this and it made me sad and annoyed. please know i do not agree with anything any of the side characters have to say.

* * *

 _I miss the way my mama knew what to do_ _  
She said to do right by your neighbour  
And they'll do right by you  
When we get older we can forget the truth  
That if you do right by your neighbour  
Then they'll do right by you_  
\- "Do Right," The Glades

.

It was the tenth time in the past three minutes her phone went off, vibrating in her hand, and this time Dylan couldn't help but groan. Her first instinct was to delete this group chat entirely, but that seemed too petty, even for her standards, so the next best option was muting the whole thing. It was, like, an important group, she guessed, considering who was in it, but… but _goddamn_ it was annoying.

More than annoying, actually, if Dylan wanted to get to the heart of the matter.

She didn't.

Her sister, Ryan, said _there's gotta be something we can do_ , and Jamie, the other one, replied _we don't even go to school there_. Patrick added _we're still kind of threatening aren't we_ and Sammi sent three laughing emojis before _maybe I am but you're just that dorky kid who sketched all the time_. Patrick didn't take kindly to that, yelling _I WAS THE QUARTERBACK OF THE FOOTBALL TEAM_ , to which Harris replied _hell yeah baby you were._ Cam, back inside, sniped at them that _soccer is better_ , and Ryan turned it back to what they were talking about before: _Alicia deserves better than this, that Danny kid is a prick._ Harris, because he's an asshole, said _yeah and he showed everybody his_. Jamie, being even worse than Harris, if that were possible, sent back _not impressed by it tbh. I've seen better._

The eleventh text was from Harris, who could never pass up an opportunity to be gross. _Yeah,_ he said back to Jamie, _you've seen mine_.

Sammi, Patrick, and Cam sent her phone buzzing again, disliking the comment.

Derrick, the only sane one in this chat, was the twelfth message, and the last one Dylan deigned to read, silencing _#HarringtonMarvilFishers._ He merely commented _I will fucking murder all of you_.

It was hard to tell if the siblings cared much about this latest scandal- and there had been many others before this- or if they just wanted something to gossip about. All that mattered to Dylan, really, was that her sisters were, once again, interested in something that had nothing to do with her. In fact, if she knew them well enough, they'd stop their goading and teasing momentarily to figure out how to help Alicia. And if they didn't help Alicia, they'd send her a gift card to, like, Saks or something, because they cared about everyone but their own sister… unless their sister had a boyfriend they were trying to steal.

The front door shut behind her and heavy footsteps sounded until they were close enough to descend the steps. One, two, three, and then he was sitting there, next to her, elbows on his knees, gaze straight ahead.

"Did you know?" Dune asked.

"Did I know what?"

"About Abeley and Briarwood."

Dylan smacked her lips. "No," she said. "I don't even remember what happened that night. Were you there?"

He shook his head. "We- Danny and the rest of us, I mean- we went somewhere else. Some girl's. Danny was trying to sle… you know, that doesn't really matter."

"Your friend's a pig," Dylan said. She pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes, applying so much pressure the darkness behind her lids pulsed with color. What did it say about her that she was ruminating on her sisters and their dislike of her when Alicia's life was quite literally falling apart?

"Can't say we're friends anymore," Dune revealed slowly. She thought she felt him look at her, but she, herself, refused to take her gaze off the lawn in front of her. "At least I imagine we won't be after he finds out I'm here."

"And you're here, risking all of that," Dylan provided, "because Alicia is hot."

Typical of a boy.

"I just said that to piss off your boys."

Dylan started at the possession. They weren't _hers_. None of them belonged to her, not even Derrick or Cam, who probably should, their families intertwined the way they were. She'd once considered Plovert her best friend, but even he was wont to run off when something better came calling, and Kemp, her own boyfriend, had been with her sisters.

Dune continued like he hadn't noticed her reaction, "Danny is a pig. He deserves every bad thing you decide to do to him. I only wanted to help."

Dylan felt her brow quirk. "Why? It's not like this is the first time he's done something like this. You've never cared before."

"I care now," Dune returned. "Isn't that enough?"

That was the thing. "I'm not sure it is," she replied. "If you'd cared before, this wouldn't have happened. If you hadn't been _complicit-_ "

"I admit I wasn't the greatest person in the past-"

"You were part of the scheme that humiliated Penelope Rothman, and I heard you were the mastermind behind leaking those texts between Jax and Amber Ryan, who is an _angel_ , _and_ didn't you spread Natalie's nudes around?"

Dune opened his mouth, but Dylan didn't let him finish. "I wouldn't call that not being the greatest person in the past," she said. "I'd call that being a bully and a perpetrator of sexual harrassment, probably, and that is why I'm not so sure you're here with good intentions."

"I never did any of those things," he told her, and he didn't sound angry, which was puzzling. Most people freaked when their names were smeared in the mud like that. "I thought you of all people would know what it's like to be associated with things your group does even though you had no part in it."

She ignored the jab. "Why are you here, Dune?" Dylan questioned, turning to look at him.

She was startled to find him already looking at her. His eyes were bright in the dying light of day, a blue she'd never seen before. "Like I said, I want to help. I've sat back long enough, haven't I?"

"But why now? What's in it for you?"

"Maybe nothing." He blinked. "Maybe everything."

That was the dumbest thing she'd ever heard.

Dune curved his lips into a smile that probably had all the girls melting in their seats. It didn't work on Dylan. "Do you need a ride?"

"You're going home?"

"Kind of feel like my work here is done," he said. "Besides, it's a train wreck in there. Are you sure y'all are friends?"

"Yes," answered Dylan, even though the answer was really no.

Dune stared at her like he could sense that, her confusion, her lack of confidence. After all, she was sitting out here, right, instead of in there, working on… on whatever it was they were working on.

"Massie and her mom are, like, passive aggressively going at it," he told her, painting a picture. "Alicia is crying again because someone texted her, and Kristen is arguing with Kemp, and Harrington's just… he's a real angry kid, I thought that was Hurley."

"Nope," Dylan said.

"I thought he was obsessed with Block, not Alicia."

"It varies with them."

"With who?"

"All of them," she supplied and it felt like word vomit. "At any given time they like Massie more and then it can switch to Alicia and then it switches back."

There was a beat of silence where Dune pondered his next words. "And who likes you the most?"

 _Who likes you the most, Dylan?_ It made her stomach hurt just thinking about it. Names and faces and interactions flooded her mind only to disappear once she said, "No one."

"Derrick, maybe," she amended, that need to prove she wasn't a complete and total loser overpowering her better senses, the ones telling her to shut up and go back inside. To stop being such a sad sack and help her friend, who was going through more than her. "But I'm taking a backburner since Alicia is more important-"

"That's dumb," Dune interrupted. "You're cool. They should like you best no matter the situation. It's also, like, definitely not hard to be friends with more than one girl at a time."

Cruelly Dylan cooed, "Your area of expertise?"

"You're combative tonight," pointed out Dune. He looked weary around the corners of his eyes. Kind of tired.

"I'm combative most nights," Dylan retorted. "Please remember you don't know me."

"Please remember you don't know me either," he shot back. "I haven't made any assumptions about you and yet here you are-"

"I'm not friends with, with, with a _sexual predator_!"

"You are friends with a bunch of stuck up bitches but you don't see me calling you one."

Dylan narrowed her eyes at him and bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming. He was so… so _relaxed_ here, belittling her and her friends, and it was infuriating the way the porchlight highlighted his sharp cheekbones. Boys always had beautiful faces when they didn't deserve them while Dylan was blessed with hers, a pale, freckly mess of skin, with cheeks too round and a nose too big for her own good.

"That shit you think I'm part of," he began to explain, "it's… I don't. That's Danny and P.J. and probably Dempsey, I don't know, but I don't…" He swallowed, and it was nervous, like he was telling Dylan some big secret. "I'm _friends_ with girls, yes, but not like you think. I've never- I haven't- I haven't… _done_ that, you know. Yet. With a person."

"Right."

"I'm telling the truth. I wouldn't lie to you about this."

"And what makes me so special?" asked Dylan. "Why are you telling me this? Why did you seek me out?"

"Compared to everyone else, you're relatively sane," Dune said. "You were nice to me before, too, when no one else was, so I just… I thought…" He stopped there before he could finish the thought. "I trust you, I guess."

Uncomfortably ignoring the thrill that went through her at his admittance, Dylan countered, "Maybe you shouldn't. I'm hardly trustworthy."

Dune caught her eyes, held them. "I think you're wrong."

"Yeah?" Dylan asked. "What makes you think that?"

He shrugged. "Just a feeling."

"Feelings can be wrong," Dylan reminded him.

"Yeah, well," Dune started, "we'll have to see if I'm right."

"And if you are?"

He pushed himself up, lit up from the back. "Nothing. I'll just be right." He tilted his head, taking her in. "Why? Do you want me to be wrong?"

"I'm not sure yet," she responded. She wiped her palms on her thighs and pushed herself up. "Now, come on, if you plan on being part of this group, you can't just leave once it gets messy. We have work to do."

.

 ** _Massie Block_** : hey  
 ** _Massie Block_** : idk where you are but ur mom called  
 ** _Massie Block_** : i covered for you and said you were here  
 ** _Massie Block_** : i wont do it again  
 ** _Claire Lyons_** : _read at 5:53 am_

.

 ** _Kristen Gregory added Dune Baxter to the group  
Kemp Hurley removed Dune Baxter from the group  
Kristen Gregory added Dune Baxter to the group  
Kemp Hurley removed Dune Baxter from the group_**

 _ **Kemp Hurley**_ : not today, Satan

 ** _Kristen Gregory_** : did you just call me Satan

 ** _Kristen Gregory added Dune Baxter to the group_**

 ** _Dune Baxter_** : is it safe  
 ** _Kemp Hurley_** : no

 ** _Kemp Hurley changed Kristen Gregory's name to Satan_**

 ** _Satan_** : ffs

 ** _Dune Baxter liked Kristen Gregory's name change_**

 ** _Alicia Rivera_** : hi dune  
 ** _Dune Baxter_** : hi alicia

.

 _It must be awfully embarrassing to be in porn_ , Alicia thought.

It was an odd thing to ponder, but it happened anyway, and she strode down the hall like she normally did, weighing the merits of sex work. These people were watched by people all over the world; strangers knew the sounds they made, the intricacies of their bodies, the facial expressions. And they chose to do that, to have people know them in this private, personal way, and Alicia… Alicia knew she would never be able to do that. She never made that choice.

Everyone was staring at her. _Everyone_ , and it wasn't because of her black and white oversized poncho or the thigh-high black boots she painstakingly laced up at seven this morning.

It was because they knew. They _knew_ her now, the way her mouth looked, and her cheeks, and her eyes. They knew about the little gasp thing she did, and the way she gave Danny Robbins everything he wanted without complaint. Nothing about her was secret anymore. If they knew that, they could guess the rest, even if she didn't know it herself.

Her hair, slick straight down her back, was gripped in a tight fist and tugged when she got to her locker.

P.J. Levine chortled as she slapped at his hands, nose scrunched in delight. "Thought you liked that, Rivera," he defended. His friends- none of them Dune and, thankfully, none of them Danny- laughed along, because, you know, sex crimes were funny to boys like them.

"Yeah," Alicia said coolly, repeating Dune's advice in her head- _don't give them the satisfaction, it's what they want-_ and smiling demurely. "I'd have to like _you_ , though, and I don't, so…"

She closed her locker, heading along, trying to remember what class she had next. Trying to ignore her racing heart and shaky hands.

She did not get far: P.J. grabbed her hair again, this time hard enough for it to hurt, and yanked. Alicia bit her tongue to keep herself from squealing- _no sounds, no sounds, no sounds_ \- but could not repress the shiver that traveled down her spine when he whispered, "I'd think twice before you say things like that. I'd hate for something worse to happen to you," in her ear.

"Are you threatening me?"

P.J. smiled. She could see it in the corner of her eye, where his cheek pressed against the side of her head. He smelled nice, she thought unwillingly, which she hated. "Me? Threaten you? Absolutely not. I was just saying personally I would hate if something else happened to you." He huffed out a laugh, bordering on cruel. "You are my favorite Pretty Committee member, you know."

One of the kids in the back, Alicia didn't know his name, didn't care, snorted. "Which was why you were all over Claire Lyons Saturday night?"

Alicia's spine smoothed out, shoulders falling, frozen in place.

"Claire's not in this little group anymore," P.J. answered. His breath ghosted along Alicia's ear. "Is she?"

Swinging away from him, Alicia twisted on her heel and stared at him, hoping her eyes were narrowed and not as wide as they felt. She did not like Claire, not right now, at least, and she should be worried about _herself_ , all things considered, but that didn't stop her from demanding, "What'd you do to Claire?"

Claire, who she hadn't seen in school yet.

Claire, who was not in the carpool this morning.

Claire, who was making three thousand terrible decisions in the past week alone.

Claire, who she didn't necessarily like, but hated the thought of something happening to her.

"Nothing she didn't want," P.J. replied.

Alicia blinked, a million scenarios running through her head, all of them worse than the other. "I'm leaving," she announced.

"See you around," P.J. called, his friends tittering around him.

Alicia made sure to keep her gait steady and slow, like she normally did, ambling away from them. Her footfalls sounded like gunshots as she walked. Every group she passed seemed to stop and stare at her. Every laugh seemed to be directed towards her. She heaved her bag higher up her shoulder and hid her burning cheeks behind the curtains of her dark hair.

She slipped into her next class earlier than ever and forced herself to remain aloof and unbothered, despite her desire to bury her head in her arms. Did she have homework this weekend? She didn't do it if so. She flipped through her planner to see, saw nothing, and jotted down the day's assignment instead in swirling penmanship, too girlish for her liking. She dotted her 'I's with hearts sometimes. Today was one of those days.

It made her feel eight. It made her feel twelve. It made her feel _stupid_.

She erased the whole thing. Rewrote it. Tried to keep her writing as uniform and neat as possible, but the _y_ at the end of _essay_ curled up and over, ruining that.

She tried again.

Alicia did this for the next few minutes as the rest of the class filed in, attempting some sort of control. All she found was she couldn't control _herself_ , which- that was right, unfortunately.

Even worse, she hated herself for flinching when a hand- and not just any hand- tentatively placed itself on her shoulder. She knew this hand, this hand never did anything to her, and yet…

"Sorry." It recoiled, but the presence remained.

"My fault," Alicia replied. "I shouldn't have done that."

Derrick sighed angrily, dropping into the seat next to her. "You don't have to listen to a thing that idiot says," he told her. "For all we know, Dune is-"

"I don't want to hear it again," she interrupted. "I'm tired."

"But _Alicia_."

"He's right," she said, even though it killed her. "They want me to fall apart here and they want me to seek revenge and they want me to have stayed home today, tomorrow, and for the rest of the week." She reached up to rub her face before remembering she'd spent twenty minutes perfecting her cat-eye. She scratched the skin between her thumb and finger instead. "I have to be better."

"Better than what? _Them_?" Derrick scoffed. "It's not that hard."

Alicia shook her head. "I just-" She swallowed, averting her eyes. Derrick could be so intense when he wanted to be. "I shouldn't give them the satisfaction."

"They _dropped_ -"

"Derrick, _please_ ," begged Alicia. "I have to deal with this in my head already. I don't need to hear it from you too."

He opened his mouth to respond, brows furrowed, cheeks reddening. They did that when he was worked up, she knew, and she didn't like that everyone else seemed to think they could feel more about _her_ situation than she could. Alicia twisted in her seat, facing forward, and let him know she wasn't planning on listening to whatever he had to say.

The boys could have their own problems with each other. She didn't need to get involved in whatever pissing contest they had going on. Dune was fine. He was never as bad as his friends, even if he was complicit in their behaviors. He'd left them after this, after the video was sent around, and that was enough for her. If Derrick and his boys had a problem with him, deal with it without her.

Derrick got the hint, silencing himself. Though he did grumble under his breath, he followed her lead and attempted to pay attention in class. Alicia felt him look at her every so often, felt _everyone_ look at her. She merely crossed her ankles under her desk and copied everything her teacher said. It didn't matter that she didn't know what he was talking about or how it mattered- she wrote it all down.

Paul Danno in the front was answering a question when the loudspeaker crackled. " _Alicia Rivera to the principal's office_ ," the voice said. " _Alicia Rivera to the principal's office._ "

If Alicia's heart wasn't already in her stomach, it would be now.

She couldn't let them know that though.

She packed her things with steady hands, hooked her bag over her shoulder again, and stood.

Derrick looked at her quizzically, and Alicia forced a smile. "It's probably because of my shoes," she tells him in a whisper. "I always get in trouble for these."

"Text me when you get out," he replied, not even bothering to lower his voice.

Alicia nodded though she had no intention of doing so. Her phone had been powered off since she'd received the video of herself. It had blown up immediately after, messages flooding it left and right. Girls called her out, rude and judgmental, and boys made snide comments about her body, rated her, asked where they could sign up for the next one. She couldn't handle it. Not knowing what people were saying about her was keeping her sane and she was not about to jeopardize that, not even for Derrick Harrington.

The halls were empty as she walked, her background music comprising of her heart pounding in her temples, roaring in her ears.

It wasn't a long walk to Principal Burns' office, but it felt like it went on for ages. Alicia thought about everything and nothing as she made her way there, creating a million and one scenarios in her head. She knew what she was going in for, though she really hoped it was for her shoes.

(She'd never once gotten in trouble for these, and she'd worn them time and time again.)

A little bell rang above her head, chiming incessantly, when she entered the office. Heads popped up as she did so, young women working as school administration under Burns' lead, all staring at her with curiosity (and a bit of disgust and pity). The video must've made it to them as well. Probably the highlight of their boring day, annoying adults with no lives.

Alicia cleared her throat and sat at the bench by Burns' office, crossing her legs.

"Hi Alicia," the newest administrative assistant said, dropping a handful of files on the cabinet beside her. "How are you doing?"

The look on her face- mouth pressed into a tight line, face pinched- Alicia knew she'd seen the video, she knew what was happening to her, what was going on around school. Not like she _wouldn't_. Marion was a fan favorite amongst the students, being young enough to understand a girl's plight and pretty enough to get the boys' attention. A number of seniors last year had attempted to ask her to prom, which was wildly inappropriate, but Marion lived for it, always humoring the boys and gossiping with the girls. It was a wonder she hadn't been fired yet.

Knowing all of this, Alicia forced a smile. She was not about to get caught up in this shit, regardless of how nice Marion was. "I'm fine," she answered. "Cheerleading is a lot for me right now, but at least football season is almost over and we have a few months off before basketball starts up."

Marion blinked, fingers moving on her own accord to file whatever folders she had. "I meant about the vid-"

"Miss Rivera," a different woman said loudly, an older one. She transferred over from when OCD and Briarwood merged, and she knew Alicia. She'd known her for years actually, ever since, like, second grade. It upset her to think she knew about Alicia's recent faux-paux and she couldn't look her in the eye, even as she was saving her from what was, no doubt, a certain embarrassment. "Principal Burns will see you now."

Alicia gathered her things, offered Marion a casual wave, and nodded at Mrs. Beeline.

"Miss Rivera," Principal Burns greeted, still looking birdlike as ever. Eyes narrowed and mouth pursed, she looked more like the crow they all cawed at her than a person. "Lovely to see you."

"It's nice to see you too," the girl replied, mouth dry. She hadn't been called to this office since the merging, but back in the day, back when OCD and Briarwood were two separate entities, she'd known this office, or whatever it looked like before, like she knew her own home. "How are things? How's your baby?"

"She's six now, so hardly a baby," Burns replied, "but she's doing well. She is having a potluck at school this afternoon, so I'm leaving after this to attend."

"That's nice," Alicia said. Her parents never showed up for things like that. They were always too busy, but her dad did send authentic Spanish cuisine to every elementary school event.

"Indeed." Burns steepled her fingers in front of her, looking pensive. "Look, Miss Rivera, I don't want to be anything other than frank with you, you understand?"

Alicia nodded, swallowing. Burns' face was pinched at the eyes, the lips, and she knew what this was about.

"There is a very… _unsavory_ video of you going around," said Burns. "I know that often you girls think I am out to get you, but I really only ever want to ensure you are safe and smart, especially when you are no longer within these walls. I thought we at OCD taught you better than this."

"I didn't," Alicia started. "I didn't know."

"You consented to it?" the principal asked. "You wanted to do it? No one pressured you-"

"No!" Alicia exclaimed. "Of course not. No. I- I did want to, yes, I just didn't- I didn't want it to be recorded. I didn't _know_."

Burns sighed. "Alicia," she said, and that was the first time she'd ever used the girl's first name. "I have known you for so long, and I hate that I have to do this with you. It got around, this video, and not just to the student body." She paused, pressing fingers to her eyes. "The faculty got it. The school board. The superintendent."

Alicia's heart, already in her stomach, sunk to her feet.

It wasn't like this was news to her. She'd assumed. They'd all assumed. Things like this get taken, sent out, saved, sent out again. It was a matter of time before the entire county got it. The whole state. The next town over, New Jersey, Connecticut. If the older siblings had already seen it, who knew where it could go next?

"Right," she replied. Her throat hurt with the effort. Suddenly it was too hot for her weather-appropriate poncho. She tugged at the neck.

"They tried to call for your immediate expulsion," Principal Burns told her. "As you know, there is a strong sexual conduct policy here at BOCD. We do not encourage it nor do we turn a blind eye."

And yet when Plovert slept with a student teacher and boys pulled mean pranks on girls in the locker rooms and relationships were flaunted around with gross amounts of PDA, nothing was said. There were blind eyes, Alicia knew, but there were none when the girl was as busty and pretty as she was. There would be consequences for _her_ actions, just based on the type of body she unfortunately possessed.

It got hotter.

She said something like _understandable_ , she thought. It made sense, what she was being told, and it would make more sense if it was acted upon every time something happened that broke this policy. Just last year the boys' lacrosse team played Peeping Tom to the girls on the swim team, but all they got was a slap on the wrist when someone told on them. The girls got the usual _boys will be boys_ speech and whole lot of jokes about their bodies by the male student body. One of them, if Alicia recalled correctly, was even told by Dean Don- who now served as Vice Principal- that she should probably wear more clothes if she was going to get upset about it. She was at _swim practice._

"I convinced them otherwise." Principal Burns leaned over to place her hand over Alicia's. Much to Alicia's surprise, she held on and squeezed. "What happened was not your wish, I know that. You are not the kind of girl the world tries to make you out to be. You would tell me if you did something you did not want to do, right?"

 _No,_ Alicia thought. Her mouth said otherwise.

"The board is suspending you for improper sexual behavior."

"I wasn't on school grounds," Alicia protested. "Can they do that?"

"When parents are as angry as they are, I imagine so," Burns replied. "They have to give them what they want or else-"

"Or else the funding and the scholarships stop coming in," Alicia finished bitterly. "And Danny? What's happening to him?"

The silence on her principal's end was deafening.

Alicia nodded. "How long?"

"A month, starting today."

"A _month_?" Alicia repeated, the words heavy in her mouth. "That's… that's… I'll miss midterms and the winter dance and the soccer _and_ football championship games and cheerleading tryouts for basketball and the winter musical and-"

Principal Burns squeezed her hand again, breathing sharply through her nose. "I believe that's the point," she murmured. "The punishment is to ensure you can't do much of anything this year."

"And nothing is happening to Danny? Not a _thing_? _He_ recorded it! _He_ sent it out! I was just a drunk girl who thought I was doing something fun, I didn't think I'd-"

"Well, maybe you should have."

"I shouldn't have to!" Alicia exploded, ripping her hand out Burns'. The back of her eyes stung and she blinked rapidly, trying to stop the tears before they came. "Boys should know better. Boys should have to think too. It's not just me doing that. There are _two_ of us. I shouldn't be the only one getting punished." The room was caving in and the temperature was rising and why did she wear this godawful poncho? "I get _everything_ fun taken away from me and he gets nothing? I don't want him playing in that football game next week. I wanted him stripped of everything too. Principal Burns, _please._ "

"I'm afraid I have no control over any of this," the woman said, "but your parents, if they choose, they can write to the board and-"

"My parents know?"

Burns nodded. "They were called this morning after the meeting commenced. They should be here to pick you up within the hour."

"Oh my god," Alicia breathed, a wave of nausea crashing over her. "Oh my god. Oh my god oh my god oh my god _oh my god_."

"Miss Rivera, do you-"

Alicia stood and the room started spinning. "I have to go. I'm going to… I have to…" _Her parents know. They know._ "Clean my locker. I'm going to clean my locker and I'll… I'll meet my parents in the front? I- yes. That's where I'll be. My locker and then the front of the school. I-" She couldn't even finish her thought before she was sweeping out of the room, straps of her bag getting caught up in her poncho.

She stopped for a moment to right herself only to find her whole body was shaking and her head was pounding and her breaths were coming in ragged. Not wanting to spend another moment with Marion or any of the other admin ladies staring at her, she burst from the office, unzipping every pocket in her bag to unearth her phone.

She'd left it off for almost twelve hours, embarrassed and terrified and insecure, and when she powered it back on, her text tone went off nonstop for what felt like hours. She caught a few of the texts- _what's your rate, 10/10, better than Kim K's sex tape for sure, what a slut, what can you expect from someone like her_ \- and used trembling fingers to type out messages to whichever one of her friends she could find first.

.

 ** _Alicia Rivera_** : girls bathroom first floor  
 ** _Alicia Rivera_** : immediatamente

.

"What are you doing at my table?" asked Layne, dropping her metal lunchbox. The sound it made seemed to echo throughout the cafeteria.

Cam brightened, grinning up at her, that shit-eating one that showed off too many teeth and just the tiniest hint of tongue. She wanted to slap him but chose not to, crossing her arms over her chest. "Can't say hi to my fave girl at lunch?"

Layne made a scene of looking around. "Your fave girl? Where is she?"

"I'm looking right at her," said Cam.

"Well, in that case, no," she answered. "That's against the rules."

Josh wrinkled his nose, ripping the crusts off his sandwich. "Aren't you in a band together?"

"Yes," Layne enunciated slowly, eyeing him carefully. "And that band has rules. Number one, and most important, is not associating with me during school hours. I have a reputation to maintain."

Cam nodded but made no move to leave. "She thinks I'll tarnish her incredible loner image," he told Josh. "She cares very little about the status quo, but she thinks my proximity will lead to less… opportunities for her."

"Opportunities for what?"

"Protests, all sorts of activism, underground cults, for sure…"

Josh looked up, fingers coated in mustard, and frowned. His eyes were judgmental. "You know, you don't _look_ like a person who does not care about the status quo."

Layne refused to be made uncomfortable in front of dumb jocks, but still managed to scratch her ankle, suddenly itchy, with a pristine Doc Marten. "And you don't look like an idiot," she shot back, "but here we are."

He smiled at her, that annoying boy who threw everything back in her face over the weekend, and despite how cute it looked with those little dimples and the sharp fangs, she wanted to rip it off. "Fair," he agreed, because Josh was pleasant like that- unless he didn't want to be. "But I kind of have the best grades in both our shared math and science classes, so…"

"The underground cults don't care for good grades," Cam whispered. "Don't you know?"

"I didn't," Josh said. "Makes sense, though. You know, for the anarchy."

"Anarchy," Layne repeated.

The seconds ticked away, her lunch period ending right before her eyes as she stood here, interrogating them. She buckled, watching the minute hand move from the five, closer and closer to the ten, and pulled her chair out. It screeched something fierce against the floor, once again drawing attention to her and her unwanted guests. It really wasn't every day she was accompanied by two of BOCD's stupidest popular boys.

"Doesn't make sense for the whole… Claireness of you," Josh added, watching her carefully.

She pulled out a series of foods- she was more of a snacker than an eater- and fashioned herself a homemade Lunchable, piling bits of cheese and sandwich meats on salted crackers. "Claire is my friend," she said. "There is nothing there you have to make sense of."

"Have you seen her?" Cam questioned, leaning forward. His meal, a gross mess of bread, sauce, and beef, laid before him, abandoned. There was a sixty-five percent chance, give or take, it would stain his shirt; she said nothing about that. "Claire. We haven't seen or heard from her since Friday."

"Well, Massie has," Josh said.

"Hardly counts," shot back Cam, still looking at Layne.

"What the _fuck_ year is it," she muttered under her breath. Louder, she answered, "No, I haven't. What's it matter to you?"

Cam shrugged, running a hand through his hair. "Just curious. I may be a bit worried, but that's to be determined."

Layne blinked at them, chewing. "I can't imagine you're bothering me right now because you're _a bit worried, but that's to be determined_. Out with it."

"I wanted to discuss our new song and Battle of the Bands. Are we entering that?"

"Battle of the Bands is for shit bands," Layne replied. "We're too good for that. We can play at that bar on Elm again and then at Shelby's house party. _Oh_!" She dropped her food, make a mess of her tiny sandwich in the tupperware container. "You'll never guess who approached me the other day."

"I won't even try."

"Please. Just once. I bet you'll be wrong."

"Then what's the fun in that?"

"It'll be fun for me. Please!"

Cam sighed noisily. "I don't know, Abe. Ripple? She's obsessed with all of us-"

"Skye Hamilton," Layne told him, "for her _birthday_."

" _No_ ," he responded. "No shit? Really? _Skye Hamilton_? You're shitting me."

"Hand to God," Layne said. "It was Friday, before school ended. She has no idea what our name is, but she said she was a big fan of my idiotic band and would like for us to play her eighteenth birthday."

"Knowing her, that literally can't be good."

"I'm not turning it down because your groups are fighting."

"I never said you should. I just said it would be bad, probably, but I could care less. This is so funny."

"Right? She gave me no info so I have no idea how long we have to play for, but we'll have to get started on the setlist, and, oh, by the way, your new song isn't horrendous, but it needs a lot of work, and I'd like to talk to you abou-"

Josh smacked his lips loudly, wiped his fingers on his napkin. "I'm not here to listen to you talk about your band, though do you guys ever consider changing the name? I'm feeling like _Gummy Hearts_ just isn't doing it for me anymore and you're kind of making me think you're doing bubblegum pop, not whatever emotional nonsense you're doing? Just a thought, but that's not why I'm here."

Layne dragged her gaze from Cam to Josh, focusing on the dark lashes and tanned skin. "I've already spoken to you enough," she said. "So if you're not here to talk about Claire, our shared math and science classes, or _Gummy Hearts_ , which is ironic and perfect, _thanks_ , kindly see yourself to another table."

"Okay, ouch," Josh said. "I thought we were friends."

"I'm not even friends with him"- she shot her thumb towards Cam- "and I see him once a week."

Cam nodded. "It's true."

Josh pressed his lips into a tight line. "Right," he said. "Well, I think we're friends."

"Friends do not _threaten_ each other-"

"-depends on who you're friends with," Cam interrupted. "Derrick threatens me all the time. Massie threatened me last night."

Layne frowned. "That doesn't count. You're basically dating both of them."

"Not anymore," Cam said. "Only Derrick now."

"Barely," commented Josh.

"Hm." Cam pressed his fingertips together and turned his head, peering at his companion. "Wanna date?"

"And have Derrick fight me? Nah." Josh smiled beatifically at Cam, who frowned. "Besides, you're not my type. Too scrawny."

Cam gasped and Layne's eyes, despite her best interests, roamed to the boy's arms, large and muscular in the sleeves of his grey henley. Her gaze moved, following the veins of his neck to his face. "What," she blurted. "Are you only interested in the Hulk?"

"Mark Ruffalo," Josh answered without hesitation. "Not Ed Norton."

"I can deadlift close to two hundred pounds," Cam said blankly. "What the fuck."

"Everyone is more partial to Mark Ruffalo," said Layne.

"Sorry," Josh said, who was not sorry at all, "have you figured anything out, Layne? That's why I'm here."

"Yes and no," said Layne. "Danny did, in fact, send the video, but he only sent it to his friends, like his immediate circle. He spread it around. Another one of them spread it around… I don't know which one though."

"How'd you figure that out?" Josh asked. "Did you get your hands on his phone?"

"Dempsey Solomon's locker is right next to mine," answered Layne. She nibbled on a cracker. "Boys gossip far more than girls do, and they're very loud."

"Was Dune there?" Cam asked.

"At Dempsey's locker? No." Layne quirked a brow, confused by his sudden interest in Dune Baxter. Last they spoke about him, which was an extremely long time ago because she _did not care_ , Dune was a "Cali wannabe who wasn't even _that_ good at football and should stick to surfing, if that's even what he wants to call it."

Dune was an award-winning teen surfer, so. That was weird. And he was also _from_ California…

"He was at Alicia's," she added, remembering. "They were, like, pretty secretive, but he said hello to me as I passed, so-"

"Dune Baxter said hello to you?"

"That's what I just said," Layne replied, "and Alicia said good morning, too. Very out of character, but given everything that happened today I assume she wants as many people on her side as possible-"

Josh blinked, dropping his sandwich. He'd removed the crusts and ripped it into bite-sized pieces but had yet to eat them. "Today?"

"Yeah," Layne said. "She got suspended."

"Suspended?"

"What? When?"

"I just said. Today. This morning," she answered. "At, like, ten? I don't know. It's all over the school. You haven't heard?"

"And you aren't interested in gossip?" Josh shot at her. "You seem to know everything that goes on here."

Layne slurped her juice box, a Capri Sun. "Just because I'm not interested doesn't mean I don't listen."

Cam looked past her, surveying the cafeteria, probably looking for any of their other friends. Layne hadn't heard any of their obnoxious laughs yet, meaning Kristen and Kemp weren't here. Josh frowned, shoved bread into his mouth. Chewed aggressively. They seemed to care a lot about this thing with Alicia, and Alicia in general, which was nice and extremely honorable of them. Layne wondered very vaguely if they'd try to do something about this issue after this was over or if they were just so amped about it because it happened to someone they knew.

"I have to go," said Cam, spotting someone in the distance. "See you after school, Abe." He grabbed his tray, stood, and bent down to kiss the side of her head in his haste.

"What," Josh blurted.

"Never do that again," Layne warned, pinching his side. "You've broken so many rules today."

Cam grinned, even as he zeroed in on who he wanted to speak to- Layne didn't look to see, not caring in the slightest- and mussed her hair. "What's another one, am I right?"

"You're on thin ice," she told him.

"Write a song about it," he retorted.

"BOCDSecrets is gonna love this," Josh said. "Can't wait for that post. What'd you think the caption will be?"

Layne sighed noisily; Cam's features darkened. "That account will be down before the school year's over if I have anything to say about it," he muttered, striding away. She turned only to watch him drop his lunch in the garbage, hand his empty tray to some random kid walking towards the kitchen, and disappear through the cafeteria doors.

"He saw Heidi Sprout," Josh told her. "They're, uh, pretty close."

"With a DSL Dater?" Layne inquired. "Really?"

Josh smirked, teeth white and gleaming. "You _are_ a little gossip, Miss Abeley," he teased. "Cam has an… _interesting_ relationship with them, to say the least?"

Against her better judgment, Layne leaned forward. "And to say the most?"

He chortled, pushing his chair back on its back legs. "Afraid I can't divulge." He mimed zipping his lips and throwing away the key, and Layne kicked her foot out, digging it in his calf.

"Hey! Be careful. I need this leg for soccer."

"All the more reason to injure it," Layne said, kicking at it again.

.

There was a difference between _need_ and _want_ , his mother always told him, and today he was putting someone else's needs before his wants. His mother and his (nonexistent) therapist (he refused to go) would be proud.

And this was worth it, this was _different_. It was Alicia- Alicia, who he'd always liked, Alicia, with her little nose, and her long pretty hair, and her always red lips- lips that he had seen wrap around a-

He cleared his throat, expelling that image with the one he was most familiar with. The tears, the blotchy cheeks, the swollen eyes. Not the… not the other thing, not when it was an invasion of privacy. That was shitty of him.

Derrick pulled his sleeves over his hands, tucked his thumbs into the fabric, and raised a fist to knock. It seemed like the rapping of his fingers echoed in the silence of his home, his siblings in college and his mother at the hospital. Everything was always a little bit too loud when he was alone.

There was an answering grunt on the other side, but he still waited the minute and a half it took his father to allow him entrance with words.

"Hey, Dad," he said.

Scott Harrington looked up from his work, patient files probably, given the musculature and nerve system textbooks he had open by his elbow. He was a big shot surgeon, made his own hours, picked his surgeries based on level of difficulty and if he could write medical journals about them. He met Derrick's mom at the hospital so many years ago, back when she had dreams, bigger than the life she had now: three kids, a husband that invented a procedure used worldwide, a house that won Westchester Magazine's _Best Garden_ fifteen years running.

"Derrick," Scott replied, tone pinched. It was no secret his father disliked him; he was too much like his mother. Not like there was anything _wrong_ with being like his mother.

It could also be the tattoos. The soccer. The way he fought him on everything because he didn't agree with his opinions. His blatant disrespect for the rules laid out for him.

Or it might be his likeness to his mother. It was hard to tell.

"Do you mind if I sit?" Derrick asked.

Scott lost interest in him, dropping his gaze back to what looked like X-ray or CT scan results. Derrick fought the urge to dig his nails into his palms, biting the inside of his cheek. He hated feeling like a guest in his own home, but every time his father was around he felt like an unwanted visitor who'd overstayed his welcome.

It was almost three minutes of silence, and then Scott waved a hand to the chair across from him. He marked something down on a post it, pressed it down on the file. His eyes never once lifted to meet Derrick's again. He said, "What can I do for you," made it feel like it was a nuisance to even be his father, made it less of a question and more of a hindrance.

Derrick swallowed back the noise creeping up his throat. Reminded himself why he was here. Blurted, "Is Danny benched for the rest of the season?"

"All that's left of the season is playoffs," Scott answered. "Why would we bench the star quarterback?"

"Because he sent around a video of Alicia?"

"And why, pray tell," Scott asked, finally deciding to look at his son, "would Danny get punished for that girl's poor choices?"

Derrick's blood went cold, then boiled. For one moment he couldn't form a single word, every one he'd ever learned getting caught in the tangle that was his throat. But he managed " _Dad_ ," emphasized and horrified and judgmental.

"He's a good kid," Scott said.

"He's a… he's _awful_ ," Derrick shot back. "Do you know- she's not the first girl he's- he sent that video around, he should face some sort of punishment, that's child pornography."

"She should have considered that before she agreed to it," his father replied. His insincerity made Derrick itchy. "He's just a boy, and he's an incredibly good athlete. It would ruin him if we acted on it."

"Like it's not ruining Alicia," Derrick snapped. "You have to see how unfair this is-"

Unfazed, Scott hummed a bit, attention split sixty-forty; he looked at the scans again, but the tightening of the muscles in his forearm indicated he was irritated with Derrick. But what else was new?

"Perhaps she should have thought of that before she got as drunk as she did," he said, and then made a little noise of acknowledgement, which was not directed towards his son but the work.

Derrick blinked. Blinked and repeated what his father just said to him, word for word, in what could only be described as a screech. His throat hurt afterwards, kind of raw, and he swallowed. His head ached.

"I know what I said," Scott replied, brow wrinkled. "Was there any reason for you to yell it back at me?"

" _Dad_ ," Derrick replied, "you can't possibly… _consent_ is a real thing-" He was horrified, maybe, but a small part of him wasn't surprised. "Being drunk doesn't mean she deserves to have this happen to her! She doesn't even remember if she agreed to the video being taken."

"She blacked out," Scott said. "How unfortunate. She's not the first to have that happen to her."

There was a chance Derrick was going to _die_ here, a victim to all these awful words. "Yeah, sure, other people have blacked out before," he agreed. "But that doesn't mean Danny should have spread that video around! That's… that's disgusting."

Scott looked up, expression pensive, like maybe for once he was listening to Derrick. "Alicia Rivera, right? That's her name?"

His son nodded.

"You used to be friends with her," Scott recalled, "back in middle school. Spanish."

"We're friends again now," corrected Derrick. It mattered that he knew that. Or it felt like it did. Maybe it didn't.

"She's very pretty. Isn't she the one you all used to talk about? Wanted to know what she looked like and sounded like? You're not even a little bit happy the video leaked?"

A rush of shame crashed over Derrick, guilt and disgust and anger at himself clawing at his skin. He'd thought that for a brief moment, remembered the way her mouth looked around Danny, and then he expelled it because he wasn't the fucking worst. Now his dad, a literal adult with a PhD and a wing of a hospital named after him, had the audacity to think the same thing? Because he was the worst. Derrick knew he was.

" _No_ ," he ground out. "I am not happy because it is making my friend cry, it is ruining her life, it got her suspended. Why would I be happy about that?"

Scott shrugged, noncommittal.

"Danny took the video, potentially without her consent, _leaked_ it to _everyone_ , and is getting nothing? Nothing… _while_ Alicia gets suspended until _next semester_ for something that happened _to_ her?"

"There are a lot of potentials in that explanation."

"There's one."

"One is enough," said Scott. "Do you have proof it was even him she was with? Proof that he sent it? There is no reason to destroy his future over _potential_." He sniffed, flipped a page. "That girl made a bad decision and now she must learn to live with the consequences, as we all do."

"Bench Danny," Derrick snapped. "Do the right thing."

"Don't use that tone with me," Scott returned. The skin of his cheeks pinked, which could mean one of two things. Derrick dug his fingers into his palm, just in case. "No."

" _No_?"

"No," he repeated. "I don't have the authority, and even if I did-"

"Don't have the authority my ass," Derrick interrupted, voice hard, words sharp. "You may not make the final call, but they'll listen to you if you tell them-"

"And I won't. I will not ruin that boy's life over something we don't know he did. Stop presuming to know how the world works, Derrick."

"He did do it!" shouted Derrick. "Of course he did it! Who else would?"

" _Anyone_ ," Scott sniped. "If your friend is so willing to do that with Danny, she could do it with anyone else, no questions asked. I know what kind of girl she is."

"And what kind of girl is she, Dad? Huh?"

Scott looked up again, eyes narrowed, jaw tense, and folded his hands in front of him. Derrick could see the similarities between them: the mouth, the cheekbones, the bridge of the nose. He wished he could scrub it all away, pick at it until he resembled his mother more. His mother, who would care about Alicia's predicament. His mother, who would go up to whoever she needed to speak to and tell them they were idiots, and that it takes two to make a sex tape, and if the town and the board and every other old person here were so embarrassed and upset over it, _both_ parties should be punished. Not just the girl.

But Scott was not Candace, and the next words out of his father's mouth were, "You said you're friends, right? How do we not know if this was some elaborate plot by the soccer team to destroy the football team right before both of your championship games?"

The world stopped for a minute. Literally stopped, Derrick was sure of it. He couldn't breathe, blink, _think_ , and his father was a statue before him, a large, despicable statue that, like, represented evil or horror or _gloom_. Then life went on.

Derrick took a deep breath, felt his heart pounding, saw the gleam in Scott's eyes. He swallowed and that hurt like it did before, and he dug his nails so hard into his skin he thought he felt it break.

"Are you fucking kidding me," he said.

"It's a possibility," Scott replied, aloof again. Derrick bit the inside of his cheek. Blood filled his mouth, metallic. Tangy. "You guys are always about sabotage, if I remember what happened two years ago correctly. Didn't you…"

But Derrick tuned him out, watching his mouth move but not hearing the words as they left him. He remembered the incident he was recalling, knew it painted the boys in a bad light. The football team had been obnoxious that year, and they deserved to be knocked down a peg or two, especially that asshole Andy Ryan, but to imply Alicia's unwanted and totally uncalled for and illegal sex tape was somehow… was… was a way to hurt a _sports team_ …

He could do sabotage, alright, but he'd never bring a girl into it.

Okay, he would, but not like this. Dylan and Massie could be ruthless if given enough ammo. Kristen could destroy _cities_ with the right information.

But he didn't need them for this kind of sabotage.

Derrick stood, shoving the chair back so hard and so quick it toppled over behind him. Scott chuckled, amused by his showing of emotion- he hated that, really, but loved to rile Derrick up enough to have him lose it- and made some nasty comment about not being old enough to accept how the world worked or some shit like that. Derrick didn't know, he didn't care, he didn't want to be old enough or man enough or whatever his father was saying if it meant the world did things like this to people he knew and liked and loved and people who didn't deserve it.

"Fuck you," Derrick said. "Go to hell. Rot there. Have a heart attack and _die_ , you sack of shit."

Scott smirked.

He wasn't smirking when Derrick, with a careless but very calculated swipe of his hand, knocked his cup of coffee all over the notes, the scans, and the keyboard of his computer.

"You little-"

"You should have considered that would happen," Derrick shot back. "Learn to live with the consequences."

.

 ** _Farrah Fawcett to Kemp's Angels_** : I need a place to crash  
 ** _Drew Barrymore_** : again?  
 ** _Lucy Liu_** : for how long?  
 ** _Farrah Fawcett_** : The foreseeable future  
 ** _Cameron Diaz_** : What'd you do this time  
 ** _Farrah Fawcett_** : The what matters little  
 ** _Kemp Hurley_** : why does everyone think I'm the overly emotional and violent one in this group when you exist  
 ** _Cameron Diaz_** : why are you the only one without a name change here  
 ** _Kemp Hurley_** : because you are all my angels

 ** _Drew Barrymore changed their name to Cam  
_** ** _Kemp Hurley changed Cam's name to Kristen Stewart_**

 ** _Kristen Stewart_** : fair


End file.
